


Aftershocks

by pamz



Series: A Shocking Trilogy [2]
Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Consensual Sex, F/M, Maximum Waige, Mention of attempted rape, Mild Language, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Some Quintis, The dreaded F-word, anger issues, sexual innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-07-16 11:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 51,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7265488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamz/pseuds/pamz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Sequel to "Shell Shocked".   The whole team is on shaky ground as Walter and Paige deal with the consequences of being held hostage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This sequel begins approximately three weeks after the end of "Shell Shocked" and includes a tiny bit of the episode "Fractured" (2x16) written by Matthew Davis and Nick Santora.
> 
> I will be "borrowing" bits and pieces of several episodes and will be twisting events to fit my narrative. I hope to not do a lot of rehashing of episodes. 
> 
> Disclaimer: This story is an amateur, not-for-profit publication produced solely for the enjoyment of other Scorpion fans and is not intended to infringe upon any rights of K/O Paper Products, Blackjack Productions, Perfect Storm Entertainment, SB Films, CBS Television Studios, or anyone else.

Okay, so maybe Toby had been right, Walter conceded. If he had taken the shrink's advice, he, Sly, and Paige, in all probability, would not be currently staring at the barrel of a gun. 

It was supposed to be a simple operation; he and Sylvester would hack into the aircraft carrier's main computer, remove the ransomware infecting it, then get it back online. How was he supposed to know one of the sailors would make a nasty remark about Paige and he would punch the man in the face? 

"You just struck a ensign." announced Captain Reynolds, the carrier's commanding officer, as he aimed a pistol in their direction. 

"He shouldn't have. . ." 

"Walter." The tone of Paige's voice caused him to leave the rest of his thought unspoken. 

"I was informed you were professionals. Obviously somebody lied. I should toss the lot of you in the brig."

"Sir," Paige said, smiling at the man. "We are professionals. Mr O'Brien is just a little overprotective of his employees, that's all." 

"He's never punched anyone for me," murmured Sly. The liaison shot him a look that caused him to stand up straighter.

"Please, Captain," she continued, "he is really very sorry. Aren't you, Mr O'Brien?"

"Oh, yes, very sorry," he agreed immediately. Sorry he didn't hit the guy harder for the filthy comment he had made about her. 

"Very well," said Reynolds as he lowered the weapon. "The malware's gone? We're fully functional again?"

"Yes. . .sir," Walter replied, adding the last word after Paige silently prompted him. "You might to want to put a pornography blocker on your system though."

He had never seen so many faces turn red before in his life. He didn't understand why they would be embarrassed. They were sailors, even he had heard stories about sailors on shore leave. "It's what caused the problem," he explained. "I can recommend. . ."

"You've done enough, Mr O'Brien." Paige grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the door of the bridge. "We are free to go, right?" she asked the captain.

"Yes. However, I will be reporting this incident to Homeland. They need to know one of their contractors is out of control. Dismissed." He waved them off. 

Sylvester made a beeline for the door, escaping both the confines of the small space and the captain's wrath. Walter followed Paige, throwing one last glance at the sailor who was holding his bleeding nose. A smirk twisted his lips as he recalled the satisfaction he had felt slamming his fist into the pervert's face. The knuckles of his right hand still stung but he didn't care. It had been worth it.

No one said anything until they reached Paige's car parked in the base's parking lot. "What the hell, Walter?" Paige said she unlocked the vehicle's doors. "You can't go around assaulting military personnel."

"But they can say. . .what he said about you?" Walter stared at her across the shiny red roof. 

"It was pretty disgusting," volunteered Sly. "If anyone had said that about Megan, I probably would have punched him too." Walter threw him a grateful glance as they fist bumped.

"I had to put up with much worse when I was a waitress," she said. That information did not make Walter feel any better. In fact, it made him want to punch every person who had ever insulted her.

"As much as I hate to admit it, Toby's right." Paige said as she opened the car door. "If I hadn't been here, none of this would have happened."

"So you don't want to be with me?" Walter asked, wincing when he heard the words that came out of his mouth. "I mean. . ."

"I know what you mean," she said, her cheeks turning pink, "and, yes, I do like working with you. But I don't want you to put the team in jeopardy because of me. Take this mission today, it was a computer issue." She sighed. "That's you and Sylvester's area of expertise. You didn't need me."

Walter inhaled deeply. Yes, he did. He needed her. He needed her to protect her. He needed to feel her body against his again. He needed her so much.

"I know you're frustrated, Walter," Paige said as if she read his mind. "But you should be released from light duty at your doctor's appointment this afternoon and we can get back to working more interesting cases." 

"I don't know," Sly said, "I've enjoyed the not-so-crazy pace lately. It's been like a vacation."

Walter saw the smile on Paige's face and felt his own lips curl as well. They both knew Sylvester hated conflict and danger and avoided them whenever he could. The ride from Oxnard to the garage was quiet and uneventful, and the trio walked through the door, heading for their desks to start filling out their reports. Toby and Happy were nowhere in sight. 

"Maybe they went somewhere for lunch?" Paige suggested when Sly wondered about their whereabouts. "It's only ten thirty. . ." the human calculator began when the door to the turquoise trailer popped open and a very disheveled mechanic and psychiatrist emerged from it. 

"Oh, shit." Happy said as she came to a sudden halt, causing Toby to stumble against her back. "Not good."

"I beg to differ," the shrink said in a low voice. "It was very good."

"Stuff it, Doc."

"What the hell were you two doing in there?" Walter asked stridently as he marched up to them.

"Exactly what you think we were doing," replied Toby, tucking in his shirt. "It's not my fault if you have a dirty mind."

Walter opened his mouth to reprimand him but was interrupted by the arrival of Cabe. "What the hell is this I hear about you punching a naval officer, O'Brien?" he growled as he stalked into the building. "Homeland is up my bu. . ."

"He deserved it," Sylvester chimed it. "You should have heard what he said about Paige."

"I told you so!" announced Toby gleefully. "I told you not to take her with. . ."

"Stop gloating, Doc. . ."

"This is my team and I'll take who I want. . ."

"That's no excuse to hit military per. . ." began Cabe as he glanced at Walter's right hand. "You better go ice those knuckles, son."

"Oh, ‘my team,' Mister Egomaniac," Toby said. 

Walking over to the refrigerator, Walter glanced at the shopping list pinned to its door with a magnet as he pulled out an ice pack from the freezer. "Dammit, Toby, quit writing hazelnut in front of creamer. I don't like hazelnut creamer." 

"Oh, so we all have to have plain creamer because you don't like hazelnut?"

"I don't give a crap about creamer," barked Cabe. "You guys have bigger problems. Scorpion is in danger of being defunded over your. . ."

"Shut up! All of you just shut up!" 

Everyone turned to stare at Paige, who stood in the middle of the garage with her hands on her temples. "What's done is done," she said in a calmer voice. "We just need to deal with it and move on."

"But you and Walter haven't dealt with it, so you can't move on." Toby waved his hands at them. "Look at you two. If the circles under your eyes were any darker, they'd be portals to hell. And you've both lost at least ten pounds in the past month."

"Fifteen." Walter bowed his head. He'd had to tighten up his belt another notch just that morning.

"Oh sorry, 197, my bad," the shrink said sarcastically. "Fifteen pounds then." He shook his head. "You're angry and frustrated and she's in denial. You're both not sleeping, not eating, you're both reluctant to leave each other's sight. Neither of you has said a word about what happened when you were held hostage."

Walter's hands curled into fists, the ice pack falling to the floor, and he heard Paige gasp. Glancing over at her, he saw she was shaking uncontrollably. Without a second thought, he went to her and wrapped his arms around her. She immediately relaxed, sliding her hands over his torso to his back as he felt the rage inside him dissipate. He stared into her eyes, losing himself in their hazel depths.

A loud smack startled them and they jumped away from each other, staring down at the large book resting on the concrete floor next to their feet. 

"You two fall apart every time someone mentions it," said Toby as he bent over to pick up his copy of the DSM. "You're putting the whole team in jeopardy. I've scheduled an appointment with Dr Rizzuto this morning . ."

"I already have an appoint. . ." Walter started to say before the other man interrupted him.

"It's been moved to next week," said the shrink. "As your personal physician, I don't think you're ready to go back to full duty. Physically or mentally."

Walter frowned, realizing that Toby wasn't going to stop until they agreed. "Fine, we'll go." 

Paige grabbed his arm. "I don't want to go," she whispered. 

"It'll be all right," he reassured her. "We'll go this one time and get Dr Know-It-All off our backs. Okay?"

She bit her lip. "Okay." He put his hand on hers and she laced her fingers with his.

A loud bang caught their attention once again and they jerked apart. "That's the second time in five minutes you two have slipped down the rabbit hole," said the shrink, his hand atop the huge manual as it rested on the kitchen table. "The appointment is in half an hour. I'm going with you." He held up his hands as they started to protest. "Not to sit in, just to make sure you get there."

"Fine." Walter picked up the ice bag and hurled it into the sink.

"I'm going to need to talk to you when you get back," Cabe said. "You're in hot water at Homeland."

"Fine."

Taking Paige's hand, Walter led her toward the door. They were almost there when Happy blocked their path. "I don't know what's going on with you two," she said in a quiet tone that belied the storm raging in her eyes. "But you need to get your heads on straight. Scorpion going under because of this is not an option. Are we clear?"

"As crystal," snapped Walter. He stared at the mechanic who unflinchingly met his gaze for a few moments before stepping out of the way. Wrenching open the door, Walter ushered Paige through it before slamming it shut.

"Sure hope this therapist can get through to them," Gallo said. 

"You and me, both," Toby muttered. "You and me, both." With a shake of his head, he followed his friends out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hoping to not use too much of the episode Fractured, but found out I needed to use more than I had planned. I've changed it up a bit to fit my narrative so I hope it's not too boring. And oh, yeah, Penn Jillette is still Dr Rizzuto but he's a serious professional in this version.

Doctor Rizzuto was a giant. Paige stared at the tall, pony-tailed therapist as she sat next to Walter on a couch in his office. If Toby had wanted them to feel comfortable and not be intimidated, he'd picked the wrong person for the job.

"So, Walter, Paige," he said, "Why don't you tell me what happened that day?"

Walter shot her a glance before clearing his throat. "We went to fix the President's Wi-Fi, were taken hostage, and the rest of our team rescued us."

Paige closed her eyes, a mistake as unpleasant visions swirled through her mind. Quickly opening her eyes, she realized the therapist had said something to her and was expecting an answer. "What?"

"I asked if you had anything to add to Walter's account," he said in a patient tone. 

She shook her head. "No."

"Hmm. . ." Dr Rizzuto turned to address Walter. "So how did you obtain your injuries? From what Dr Curtis told me, they were life-threatening. If they hadn't rescued you when they did. . ."

Paige smothered a gasp. She had come so close to losing him. More painful memories swept over her and she felt sick. Then Walter's hand entwined with hers, filling her with warmth and reassurance.

"I pissed someone off," Walter replied, giving her fingers a squeeze. 

"And what did you do to piss someone off?"

The genius shrugged. "I broke a light bulb."

"A light bulb?" The therapist's voice was full of disbelief. "They almost killed you over a light bulb?" He skimmed through his notes. "And you were both suffering from dehydration. So they just threw you in a room without food or water?"

"No, they brought us food and water," Walter said before looking down at the floor.

Everything he had stated so far was a fact. But they only told part of the story. He rarely lied, and when he did, it was to protect someone from a terrible truth, for the greater good. Glancing at him, Paige wondered who he was protecting now, her or himself? She'd seen the demons in his eyes. They were the same ones she caught a glimpse of when she looked in a mirror.

"You look like you want to say something, Paige," the doctor said. 

"No. Not really. It's not important." She just wanted to forget that day, but she couldn't. It had been the one of worst days of her life, and yet, it had been one of the best. What she had shared with Walter. . .her heart, her body, her love. . . The good was all tangled up with the bad and she couldn't remember one without remembering the other. It was better to pretend it didn't happen at all. A tear fell from the corner of her eye and she tried to furtively wipe it away.

"Seems like it's important enough if it's making you cry."

"I'm not crying. I just have something in my eye."

"Uh, huh." Rizzuto leaned back and crossed his legs. "So nothing extraordinary happened. Just your typical everyday hostage taking. One where you," he said as he pointed at Walter, "almost die from a punctured lung, and you. . ." He looked at Paige before continuing, ". . .where you hug one of your captors and thank her for helping." Shaking his head, he added sarcastically, "Just a typical, normal day."

She felt pressure on her hand again, but she didn't dare look at the man sitting next to her. She sensed he was about to break, just as she was. Paige closed her eyes. Damn Toby, anyway. Why couldn't he just leave them alone?

Walter was going to punch Toby. If it wasn't for the know-it-all psychiatrist, Paige wouldn't be on the verge of tears. He didn't even need to look at her and he could tell. Probably because he was. . . 

His phone buzzed, as did Paige's. Letting go of her hand, he pulled his cell from his pocket, grateful for the distraction. It was a text from Sly. ‘The big one is coming.' What the hell did that mean? Glancing at Paige, she must have received the same message because she looked as confused as he was.

Then there was a rumble followed by the room shaking violently. Dust fell from the ceiling as the floor lurched beneath them. "Get down," he instructed, pushing Paige under the coffee table before he crawled under it himself, positioning his body over hers.

The quaking seemed to go on forever but in reality probably lasted a little under a minute. He could hear car alarms going off and glass shattering and people shouting. But those sounds all faded as Paige turned so she faced him then wrapped her arms around him.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

"Yes. Are you?" He nodded.

Walter had no idea how long they stayed locked in an embrace and staring into each other's eyes, disturbed only when the table above them was flipped over. Toby and Dr Rizzuto stood towering over them with concerned expressions. He rolled off Paige then helped her to a sitting position. 

"Oh, God, I need to call Ralph." She scrambled around, picking up the first cell she found and starting typing in numbers. "There's no signal!"

"No, there wouldn't be," Walter said, "the network is overloaded. Combination of infrastructure damage and millions of people trying use the system simultaneously."

"But, Ralph. . ." Her eyes were wide with panic, a panic he could alleviate with technology.

"Coms." He pulled a small, square container from his pocket as he got to his feet. Opening it, he handed ear coms to Toby and Paige before taking one for himself. He then grabbed a pen from the therapist's desk and pressed the nib of it into a hole on the back of the device. "We just need to reset it to connect to a backup frequency Sylvester designed."

"And Ralph has one? He knows what to do?" Paige sounded uncertain as he handed her the pen.

"Yes, Sly showed him."

His words were proven true as soon as he inserted his com into his ear. "Mom? I'm okay." Ralph's voice came in loud and clear. 

"Oh, thank God," Paige said, placing her hand over her heart.

"The school suffered minimal damage," the boy offered. "Mostly books falling off shelves. We all got under our desks just like we've done before in drills."

Walter smiled at the youngster's recitation of facts. "We're going to shelter in place until emergency services give the all clear," Ralph continued. "Where are you?"

"I'm downtown," she said, "with Walter and Toby."

"Oh, good, you're at the therapist's."

Paige took the com out of her ear and glared at Toby. Even with his low EQ, Walter knew the psychiatrist was in big trouble.

"You conspired against me with my son?"

"No, not really. He just agreed with me that you two needed help." Toby adjusted his hat. "This is neither the time nor the place for this. We've got bigger problems."

Paige narrowed her eyes at the shrink. "All right," she said, "but this doesn't mean we won't discuss this later."

"We need to get outside," Walter said, taking Paige's hand. "Come on."

Chaos greeted them as they emerged from the building. Frightened people randomly darted here and there as sirens wailed in the distance. Car alarms were still blaring, traffic had ground to a halt. Bricks, stucco, and glass littered the sidewalks and streets.

"I need to go pick up Ralph," Paige said as they surveyed the damage. 

"Impossible. His school is ten miles away. We can barely move ten feet." Walter regretted his words as soon as he saw the anxiety in her eyes. Reaching out to her, he added, "We'll find a way to get to him, I promise." He touched her shoulders and started to pull her closer.

"Whoa, none of that," Toby said, swatting Walter's hands away. "Last thing we need is you two jumping down the rabbit hole again."

A loud whoosh demanded their attention as a fire hydrant shot straight into the air a few feet from where they were standing. "Oh, God," Paige murmured as it came back down to earth and crushed a nearby car.

"Walter?" Cabe's voice came over the com. "You guys okay?"

"Yes. Where are you?"

"We're still at the garage," the Homeland agent said. "The city's a mess, son. The radio is reporting collapsed overpasses and buildings and fires all over the metro area."

"They're saying it's a 7.5," added Sylvester.

Down the block, another hydrant flew into the sky. "These explosions are happening after the quake stopped," Walter observed aloud. "Which means they're blowing out because of pressure. Which means the water pipes are pinched off somewhere up the line. Happy, don't the water and gas lines run parallel to each other?"

"Yes," came the reply. "It was considered a engineering marvel at the time. They ran pipes all the way to Las Vegas."

"So if the water pipes are pinched off. . ." Walter began.

"So are the gas lines," finished Happy. "And they run through a meter station under Koreatown. So we're talking about. . ."

"A potential megaton blast. . ." said Walter.

"That's more than an A-bomb." Sly's voice cracked as he spoke.

"Right under everyone in Koreatown," stated Toby.

"Oh, God," said Paige.

"Happy, I'm going to need you guys to get to the nearest cut-off station and shut down the gas feed." Walter was frantically doing calculations in his head. "Assuming the gas line was compromised right when the quake hit, and given the PSI of a large-diameter municipal pipe. . . Sylvester, how much time do we have?"

His com went silent except for the sound of chalk squeaking on a board. "We're looking at thirty-five minutes tops," said Sly.

"Okay," Walter said as he turned to Paige and Toby. "We need to get to the meter station under Koreatown so we can vent it before it detonates."

"You can't take her down there," the psychiatrist said. "It's too dangerous."

"This is going to take more than just one person," Walter pointed out. "I'm going to need your help, Toby, and I'm not leaving her up here by herself."

"Do I get a say in this?" Paige stared at both men, her hands on her hips. "Because if I do, I'm going wherever Walter goes."

"Like you would do anything else," said Toby, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He shook his head. "Fine, bring her along. Just remember who's fault it'll be if she gets hurt."

"Thirty-two minutes, Walter." Sly's shaky voice spoke into his ear, ending the discussion. "We're heading out now."

"Good." Walter raided a nearby police car, recalibrating its breathalyzer to detect gas. Then he motioned to Toby. "Help me with that manhole cover."

Within minutes, Paige was climbing down the ladder into the sewer where Walter and Toby were waiting. Walter took her hand and they headed off into the bowels of Los Angeles.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've used more dialogue and scenes from the episode "Fractured (2x16) in this chapter but manipulated it to fit my narrative again.

Twenty minutes later, after having dealt with Brazilian fire ants and strategically digging out a pile of rubble so the ceiling wouldn't collapse onto them, the ground began to rumble again. "Aftershock," said Walter unnecessarily. 

He pushed Paige to the ground, knocking down Toby in the process, then used his body to shield hers. He grunted as small chunks of concrete landed painfully onto his back. Thankfully the shaking didn't last nearly as long the first quake.

"Dammit, Walter," Toby said as he tried to stand up. "You made me twist my knee."

Shaking off the debris covering them, Walter helped Paige to her feet. "Are you okay?" he asked. She had thrown up earlier, overcome by the stench of noxious fumes filling the tunnel and she still looked pale. The smell was making his own stomach a bit queasy and he knew he'd be tasting it in the back of his throat for days.

"You're hurt. Where are you hurt?" Shit, he had hoped she hadn't noticed his sharp intake of breath as he put his weight on his leg.

"My ankle. It's fine," he lied. He tried to take a step but stumbled as pain throbbed in his injured joint.

Toby hobbled over to him. "It's not fine, jackass," he said as he yanked up Walter's trouser leg and removing his shoe before pressing two fingers over various areas of his foot and ankle. "Sprained, not broken," he finally diagnosed.

"How do you know without x-raying it?" Paige asked, sounding a little panicked.

"Ottawa ankle rules," said the shrink, demonstrating as he spoke. "No bone tenderness along the distal six centimeters of the posterior edge of the tibia or tip of the medial malleolus, and no bone tenderness along the distal six centimeters of the posterior edge of the fibula or tip of the lateral malleolus." He shoved Walter's shoe back onto his foot. "Try walking on it."

Walter took a few tentative steps, wincing every other step. "I need something to wrap it," said Toby. He pointed to Paige's waist. "Give me the belt off your coat."

She pulled the belt from its loops and handed it to Toby, who then expertly wrapped Walter's swelling ankle. "What about your knee?" she asked.

"It'll be fine," came the reply. "No thanks to Walter recklessly endangering me to protect you. I know what a torn ligament feels like and this isn't it."

"I didn't mean to. . ." Walter started to apologize.

"You never ‘mean' to," Toby sneered. "You didn't mean to punch that guy this morning, you didn't mean to shove me aside just now." He shook his head. "We don't have time for this, we need to get moving."

He limped off ahead. Paige took Walter's arm and draped it over her shoulders, intending to let him use her as a crutch. 

"Paige, I can walk on my own," he insisted, trying to distance himself. But she held on.

"You're hurt and you need help." 

Looking into her eyes, he saw nothing he could say would dissuade her. "Okay." Leaning on her just enough to take a little pressure off his ankle, he stepped forward with his good leg.

_____

"Tell me again why we live in Los Angeles," said Toby as they trooped single file into the garage. "Earthquakes, wildfires, mud slides, flash floods. . ."

"Gang wars, traffic jams, air pollution. . ." added Sylvester as he plopped down at his desk.

"Temperate weather, beautiful beaches, world class museums, top-ranked universities. . ." Paige said with a weary smile. "Although I'm not feeling all that glad about living here myself after spending most of the day running around in the sewer." She glanced down at her clothes and wrinkled her nose. "I need a shower. . .Ralph, we should. . ."

"You can use the one upstairs," Walter offered. He didn't want her to leave. Not yet. Not ever.

"Oh, okay." Paige walked over to her desk and took a small bag out of the bottom drawer. "I'll go now, if you're sure?"

Walter nodded, unable to speak as thoughts of her in his shower filled his head. He watched as she ascended the stairs and disappeared into his loft. It didn't help he now knew what she looked like naked. Not that what he had imagined before was so different from reality, but still. . . He exhaled sharply, trying to clear his mind.

"I've scheduled another appointment for you two with Dr Rizzuto."

"We already saw him," Walter said as he spun around to face Toby. "I don't think. . ."

"That you and Paige stonewalled him? That you both lied to him. . ."

"I didn't lie." 

"Lied by omission then," Toby pointed out. "Like you've been doing ever since. . ."

"We're fine. You're the one with the problem," countered Walter. "Why are you so obsessed with what happened?"

"Because you're not fine, neither of you," said Toby. "And you're endangering the whole team."

"If you're talking about this morning, you didn't hear what he said. . ."

"Doesn't matter. You have to stop mollycoddling her. I nearly puked today when we were running around in the sewer, and I don't just mean from the smell. You kept telling her how brave and strong she was, but as soon as there was even the tiniest hint of danger, you were wrapping her up in cotton wool."

"If you're done. . ."

"No, I'm not done." The shrink shook his head. "You tossed me aside like a used tissue in order to protect Paige."

"I said I was sorry. What more do you want from me, Toby?" Rage threatened to engulf him. He needed Paige before he did something he'd regret.

"Give it a rest, Doc," Happy said as she came up beside him. "Ugh, you need a shower, too. You stink."

"This isn't over, O'Brien," Toby announced, throwing his arm around Happy's shoulders. "Oh, so you don't care for eau de sue-air, ma cherie?" he asked as she pushed him away. The two of them bantered back and forth as they headed out the door. 

"Walter, a word," Cabe said as he beckoned to him. 

"Uh, okay." Walter sighed, knowing he was in for another lecture as he followed the other man to the opposite side of the garage. 

"I wasn't joking around this morning," Cabe began, "Homeland is threatening to cut off our funding. No more paychecks. No more benefits. No more government cases. And that probably means no more Scorpion."

"Scorpion survived before without Homeland," Walter said defensively. 

"By the skin of your teeth." The older man shook his head. "Son, I can't begin to know what you and Paige went through. But whatever it was, you can't go around assaulting military personnel. You're lucky you're not being brought up charges for using that ensign as a punching bag this morning. Damn lucky. You could be facing up to twenty years in prison."

Hanging his head, Walter knew both Toby and Cabe were right. He needed to control his anger. But it was difficult when the person he was the angriest with was himself. 

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't intend to hit anyone. It just. . .happened."

"I'll do what I can to salvage this situation. You could try to cooperate with the therapist the doc set you up with," Gallo suggested. "Paige, too. It's her job to keep you in line and she's not doing that anymore."

"Okay." 

Paige came down the stairs then. Her hair was damp and she had changed into a pair of black leggings and white t-shirt. "Shower's free," she said. "I think I left you some hot water."

"Thanks." Walter watched as she walked over to Ralph and ruffled his hair. With a sigh, he turned away to go clean up. 

Fifteen minutes later, he made his way back downstairs, wearing a polo and jeans. Cabe, Sly, and Ralph were sitting at the kitchen table eating from cups of yogurt, although the agent was looking at his with suspicion. "Where's Paige?" Walter asked.

"She went up to the roof," said Cabe before he spooned a small portion of the yogurt into his mouth. 

Walter didn't stay to see his reaction as he headed back upstairs. Opening the door to the roof, he immediately spotted Paige, sitting in a chair, her knees tucked up to her chest, gazing up at the night sky. 

"There were a couple times today I thought I'd never see the stars again," she said as he approached. She lowered her eyes and smiled at him.

"I have to confess I was concerned a few times myself." He swallowed nervously. She looked so beautiful; well, she always did; but tonight, she took his breath away. "Los Angeles is still one of the most polluted cities in the country, although particulate levels aren't nearly as bad as they were forty years ago. California has some of the most stringent emission. . ." His recitation of facts trailed off as Paige chuckled. "What?"

"Only you would bring up particulates and emission controls instead of appreciating what we can see." She glanced down at his feet. "How's your ankle?"

"It's fine."

"Which means it hurts like hell but you don't want to admit it."

Damn, she knew him too well. "Okay, yeah, it hurts. I've had worse though."

Paige laughed. "Now you sound like Toby." Her smile faded as she lifted her head to meet his eyes. "I think we all should take CPR and first aid classes," she said. "Not Toby, of course. But he's not always going to be available, like when we were. . ." Her breath caught in her throat and it was a moment or two before she could continue. "I just think it's a good idea, that's all."

"No, it's something we should all know," he agreed. "I've taken a CPR class before but it's been at least five years ago. You're right, we rely too much on Toby for medical advice. We all should at least have some rudimentary knowledge. Like today with my ankle." 

"I'll look into signing us up for classes tomorrow." Paige rested her chin on her knees. "Ralph can take them with us."

"I'm sure he'd like that." Walter dragged a chair over and sat down opposite her. Paige dropped her feet to the ground and he leaned forward, taking her hands in his. She could see droplets of water from his shower still clinging to his curls and had to resist the urge to run her fingers through them.

"I, uh, I was wondering. . ." he began, uneasily glancing around before finally looking her in the eyes. "Uh, if you would like to have, um, d-dinner with me, er, F-Friday night?"


	4. Chapter 4

_"I, uh, I was wondering. . ." he began, uneasily glancing around before finally looking her in the eyes. "Uh, if you would like to have, um, d-dinner with me, er, F-Friday night?"_

Paige was charmed he asked her out so formally. And it was sweet he was so nervous. She didn't know why she found his awkwardness so endearing, but it was one of the things she loved most about him

Walter must have misunderstood her hesitation because he lowered his gaze but not before she noted his disappointment. "Uh, it's okay if you don't want. . ."

"I would love to have dinner with you, Walter," she said, trying to suppress a smile and failing miserably. "And Friday works for me. Ralph already has plans to spend the night at Sylvester's. They're going on another marine biology field trip on Saturday."

She watched as his face turned red, felt her own cheeks flush as her words sunk in. "Oh, I, uh, I mean just d-dinner, not, um. . ." he said, staring at the ground again.

"It's all right, Walter," she said, giving his hands a reassuring squeeze. "I know what you mean." She'd seen the flare of desire in his eyes before he had looked away. He wanted her. She wanted him, too. They had only been together the one time and even though neither of them had mentioned it, she knew they had been waiting for Walter's ribs to heal. She had a pretty good idea of how the evening was going to end.

"So. . .I-I'll pick you up at seven?" he asked.

"Seven is good." She freed one hand to cover a yawn. "Sorry, I'm really tired. It's been a long day and Ralph has school in the morning and we should be going home."

"You could stay," he offered. "I mean, you and Ralph. . .and I'll sleep on the couch. . .and. . . You shouldn't be driving if you're too tired."

She really was exhausted and the effort it would take to go back to her condo seemed monumental. "Okay. We'll stay," she said. "I should go tell Ralph."

She got to her feet then and Walter stood up as well, bringing them nearly chest to chest. She lost her balance for a second, grasping his forearms to steady herself. She moved her hands upward, feeling the muscles hidden under his shirt sleeves, and wet her lips. He encircled her waist with his hands, resting them on the curve of her bottom. Her breathing grew shallow as he stared at her with a look of wonderment in his eyes that always made her weak in the knees.

He closed the distance between them, gently touching his lips to hers. Lifting her hands, she tangled her fingers into his still damp hair, pressing her body to his as the kiss deepened. Need swirled through her and she could feel Walter growing hard against her belly.

A knock on the door, followed by it opening slightly, startled them. "Walter? Paige?" Cabe's voice caused them to jump apart. Paige had to hide a smile at the embarrassment and annoyance mingled on Walter's face. He kept his back to the door as Paige stepped around him. 

"We're here," she called out. The Homeland agent came into view as he pushed the door open wider.

"I'm giving Sylvester a ride home," he stated. "And Ralph can barely stay awake. Just thought you'd like to know."

"Thanks," she replied. "We'll be down in a minute. Good night."

"Good night," said Cabe. "Good night, Walter." The agent, a knowing grin on his face, departed, leaving the door open. 

Paige turned around, noticing Walter hadn't moved. "Walter?" 

"What?" He ran his hand over his face as if he was just waking up. 

She bit her lip. "Are you sure you want Ralph and me to stay? I don't want us to be a problem for you."

"Yes. Stay. Please." 

There was something in his voice, something telling her he needed her tonight, a feeling she understood because she felt the same way. All day long it seemed as though forces had been trying to tear them apart, and if staying meant she could ease both his mind and hers, she would do it. "Okay." She started toward the door, then stopped, reaching out her hand. "You coming?" 

"Yes." He entwined his fingers with hers and they both headed back inside.

_____

It didn't take long for Paige and Ralph to settle into his bed. Ralph complained about having to sleep in his clothes until Walter found an old pair of pajamas for him to wear. They were several sizes too big, and Walter couldn't bring himself to tell the boy they had once belonged to Megan, but they placated him enough that he was soon sound asleep.

Paige opted to sleep in what she had on. Walter checked on them before he went to lie down on the couch, expecting to toss and turn for a few hours before resigning himself to another sleepless night. But he found himself drifting off within minutes of his head hitting the pillow.

A glint of light crossed his vision and he found himself in a darkened room, a familiar musty odor filling his nostrils. Turning his head, he saw Paige, her wrists and ankles bound, tears rolling down her cheeks, a knife pressed to her throat. A man was looming over her. No, he had to stop them, stop her. . . No. . .

"Walter! Walter, wake up." He bolted upright when he heard her voice and felt her hand touch his hair.

"Paige." He reached out and pulled her into his lap, burying his face into her shoulder. 

"Walter, it's okay. It was just a nightmare." He could feel her lips on his neck. "You're okay."

Lifting his head, he stared at her, expecting to see the bruised and bloodied woman from his dream. He sighed with relief when her uninjured face filled his vision, with only the mostly healed cut on the left side of her chin as a reminder of their ordeal. "I'm sorry, " he said. "Did I wake you up?"

"No," she replied. "I was already awake." She glanced away and he realized she'd had a bad dream of her own. "I should go back. . ."

He was aware enough now to notice her thigh pressed up against his groin. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he forced himself to remember her son was in the next room and what he wanted at the moment was out of the question. But he still needed to keep her close, to protect her. 

"No, stay." Gently, he slid her off his legs so they were sitting side by side on the sofa. After covering both of them with his blanket, he wrapped his left arm around her shoulders. Smiling weakly at him, Paige kissed him on the cheek before resting her head against him and placing her hand over his heart. He slept peacefully the rest of the night.

_____

"Ralph, honey, hurry up," Paige urged her son the next morning. "Finish your cereal. You know we have to run home first and change clothes before I drop you off at school."

"Mom, they just said on the news that most schools are closed today," said the boy genius as he used his spoon to play with the milk in his bowl. "They're having structural engineers check the buildings for any damage caused by the quakes."

"Well, I haven't received a notifi. . ." she started to say before she was interrupted by the buzzing of her phone. "Okay, no school today," she said as she read the text message. "We still need to go home and. . ."

Once again, she was cut off, this time by the sound of the door creaking as Toby, Happy, and Sylvester entered the garage. Dammit, she hoped to be long gone before the others showed up. She knew what they would be thinking; especially Toby; but they'd be wrong and she didn't feel like explaining herself to anyone.

"And what do we have here?" the psychiatrist asked in a mocking tone. "Did you and Walter have a sleepover and not invite the rest of us?"

"It's none of your business, Toby," she said with a sigh. 

Walter chose that moment to hurry down the stairs, carrying a file folder. "What are you all doing here so early?" he asked as he came to stand beside Paige. 

"So no fraternization at work, eh?" said the shrink, ignoring his boss's question. "What do you call this?"

"It was late and Paige was too tired to drive so I offered to let her and Ralph spend the night." Paige could feel how tense he was even though he was standing a foot away. "It was efficient."

"I bet it was," Toby said with a smirk. "So it's all right for you and Paige to engage in efficient fraternization but not the rest of us? Hypocrite much?"

Walter set the folder down on the table and took a step toward the doc. "I only said no fraternization during work hours. What I do on my own time is my affair." Paige bit her lip as she watched his hands curl into fists. 

Toby also moved closer. "Interesting choice of words there, 197." 

Paige glanced from one man to the other and realized their verbal sparring was on the verge of turning physical. "Stop it," she said as she positioned herself between them. She looked over her shoulder at Happy. "Can't you help me talk some sense into them?"

The mechanic shrugged. "I've seen them fight before. Trust me, no one's going to get hurt."

Toby turned to glare at her. "Hey, I actually boxed in an amateur match."

"And got KO'd 21.2 seconds into the first round," Sylvester pointed out with a laugh. "Happy's right," he said to Paige. "The last fight they got into, the only thing that got hurt was a chair Toby tried to throw at Walter and missed. That was before you." He and Happy both were acting if a fight between the two men would be amusing instead of a serious setback to their friendship.

"I don't care," said Paige, crossing her arms over her chest. "Toby, if you would just stop provoking Walter. . ."

"So now this is my fault?" the shrink said with a fury in his voice she'd never heard before. "You two are the ones who are all fucked up in the . . ."

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as Walter moved past Paige and swung at Toby's head. "Don't speak to her like that!" he snarled, stumbling as his punch missed its mark. He tried to strike again but the psychiatrist blocked his fist before clipping Walter on the chin. The genius was stunned for a second, then launched himself at his friend, knocking the shrink off his feet. 

"Stop it!" Paige yelled as the two men wrestled around on the floor. Walter aimed a punch at Toby's nose, but the other man deflected it at the last second and it hit his eye instead. 

"What the hell is going on in here?" Cabe's voice rang out from the doorway. Walter and Toby froze, both with their fists raised, ready to hit the other. 

Walter was the first to scramble to his feet, adjusting his tie as he noticed the Homeland agent's scowl. "Nothing that can't be continued at a later time," he said, sending an angry glance in the shrink's direction. His chin stung and he could taste blood in his mouth from biting his tongue, but he wasn't going to give Toby the satisfaction of knowing he'd scored a point.

"Fantastic. Now that's settled. . . O'Brien, Dineen, Dodd. . .you're coming with me. We're going to a disciplinary hearing."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what would actually take place at a disciplinary hearing at the Department of Homeland Security. I, however, do have first hand knowledge of what takes place at a Postal Service disciplinary hearing. Same thing, right? So if there are any errors, which I'm sure there are, they're all mine.

_"Fantastic. Now that's settled. . . O'Brien, Dineen, Dodd. . .you're coming with me. We're going to a disciplinary hearing."_

"A disciplinary hearing?" Sylvester's voice was filled with panic. "Why me? I didn't do anything."

"You're a witness," said Cabe. "Paige, too." 

" I need to go home and change" Paige said. "I slept in these clothes and my other ones still stink like the sewer." She bit her lip as she glanced at Walter, who seemed as anxious as she was. 

"Hearing starts in less than half an hour," Cabe announced gruffly. "You look fine. Come on."

Paige snatched up her purse then kissed Ralph on the head. "Love you," she said. "You can finish your reading assignment I know you didn't do last night."

The boy sighed. "Okay, Mom," he said before returning to the cartoon he was watching on Toby's tablet.

Walter came up beside her and took her hand as they walked out to Cabe's SUV. They climbed into the back seat as Sly reached the vehicle, looking bewildered.

"Looks like you're shotgun, kid," the Homeland agent said to the confused young man.

"Walter's always shotgun when you drive," he murmured as he settled himself in the front passenger seat. 

Cabe flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror as he started the engine, watching as Walter helped Paige buckle her seat belt before taking her hand in his. "I think you're going to have to get used to it." With a shake of his head, he put the vehicle into gear.

_____

Walter swallowed nervously as he and the others were lead into a conference room at Homeland headquarters. Glancing around the room, he noticed five other people already sitting at the table. They were all unfamiliar with the exception of Deputy Director Cooper. She smiled timidly at him.

"If you will take your seats, we can get started." A voice came from behind them and they all spun around to see Adriana Molina stride into the room, carrying a thick file. Walter's anxiety worsened. He had hoped Katharine would be in charge of the hearing. He stood half a chance with her. Molina, however. . . He wondered if she still held a grudge against Scorpion after Cabe challenged her decision to leave Sly in prison to face certain death.

He took a chair next to Paige, resisting the urge to take her hand, leaving his to fidget against his leg. The director took her place at the head of the table and cleared her throat.

"This is a disciplinary hearing concerning the actions of Walter O'Brien yesterday, Monday, February 22nd, aboard the aircraft carrier, the USS Carl Vinson, while performing duties under contract to the Department of Homeland Security." 

She rifled through the papers in front of her before continuing. "Mr O'Brien stands accused of striking a naval officer, Ensign Bogardus. . ." Walter quit listening for a moment, he already knew what had happened. 

"Ms Dineen, if you will give us your statement at this time. . ." He felt Paige stiffen beside him, before shooting him an anxious glance. 

"I, uh, I didn't hear what he said. I had just walked past him, Ensign. . .Bogardus and another man. . .sailor. . .and then the next thing I knew, Walter was being restrained and the captain was pointing a pistol at us."

"You didn't hear what was said?" Molina's tone was full of disbelief. 

"No." Walter knew she was lying. He'd seen her back go rigid for a second right before he had punched the man for his filthy remark. But he couldn't blame her for not wanting to repeat it, even it meant hurting his case. "I-I wasn't paying attention. I-I was thinking about my son and how he would have loved to explore the carrier."

The directed leaned over and whispered something to the man next to her. "Thank you, Ms Dineen. Mr Dodd?"

"I heard what he said and it was disgusting."

"Can you elaborate?"

"Elaborate?"

"Yes. Can you tell us what you heard Ensign Bogardus say?"

"Do I have to?" Beads of sweat had formed on the human calculator's forehead and Walter was afraid Sly was about to lose his breakfast.

"Yes, if you want to help Mr O'Brien."

Sylvester took a deep breath. "Can I write it down instead?

"I guess that would be acceptable," the director said. A piece of paper and a pen were passed down to Sly, who looked askance at the pen before pulling one of his own out of his shirt pocket. He quickly scribbled down the offensive words then shoved the paper away. Molina read what the human calculator had written and Walter felt vindicated as the woman's cheeks flushed red for a moment.

"The ensign testified he did make a comment on Ms Dineen's appearance, but nothing like this." She sat back in her chair. "Mr O'Brien, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Walter narrowed his eyes as he stared at the director. A hearing held at the last minute, giving him and the others no time to prepare, the other parties involved already interviewed. . . He had no doubt his punishment had already been decided and this was all a mere formality. 

Taking a deep breath, he was about to reply when Paige entwined her fingers with his, catching him off guard for a moment. " I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have hit him but then he. . ." A squeeze to his hand cut off the rest of his sentence. 

"Mr O'Brien, I want to believe you actually feel remorse but your past behavior indicates otherwise." Removing folder after folder from the file in front of her, she spread them out on the table as she went on, "Insubordination, destruction of public and private property, breaking laws ranging from traffic infractions to the theft of a one hundred million dollar painting. . ." Walter glanced up at her sharply and saw the smug smile on her face. "Oh, yes, we know you returned it to the daughter of the original owner. Did you really think we wouldn't find out?"

She re-stacked the folders into a neat pile. "You're arrogant, reckless, and lack the proper respect for authority. My predecessor suggested on more than one occasion Homeland should cut all ties with you and your team of geniuses. But. . ." 

"Merrick was intimidated by us. And a traitor." The words left his mouth before he could stop them. Walter bowed his head, staring at the shiny surface of the table. Paige's thumb rubbed across his knuckles and he caught a glimpse of her worried expression. 

"Be that as it may," Molina said, "the fact you and your team have a 100% success rate despite your unorthodox methods and your lack of discipline, means we will be retaining your services. . .for now.

"Mr O'Brien, you will be put on a six month probationary period. Any more incidents like yesterday's, and Homeland will terminate Scorpion's contract permanently. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes." Walter raised his head, meeting the director's eyes.

"Then this hearing is adjourned." She stood as did the others and they started departing. Only Cooper remained behind. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to give you much of heads up about this," she said rather sheepishly. "I only found out about it an hour ago myself."

"We're not exactly on her list of favorite people," Cabe stated. "Seems like the outcome was already cut and dried. Our presence was barely necessary."

Walter nodded, the agent's words echoing his earlier thoughts. "Can we leave now?" he asked, eager to get away from the headquarter's oppressive atmosphere.

"You're free to go," said Katharine. "Please, just be careful from now on. I'd hate to lose you guys. You've done tremendous work, in my opinion."

"Thank you." Paige got to her feet, letting go of Walter's hand and he instantly missed the contact. 

It was a somber ride back to the garage. But as soon as they walked through the door, they were greeted by Toby and a flood of questions. 

"What happened? Did you talk to Cooper? Are we all in trouble or just Walter? Why did you punch that guy anyway? What did he say? What. . .?"

"Slow down, Doc," Cabe growled. "One at a time."

"Walter got six months probation," Sylvester blurted out. "And Director Molina threatened to cut us all loose if. . ."

"If I didn't start showing some proper respect for authority," finished Walter. 

The shrink blew a raspberry. "Like that's going to happen. None of us have proper respect for authority."

"Hey!" Paige crossed her arms over her chest. "I do. . ."

"Not," Toby interrupted. "You may look sweet and innocent but you flaunt the law every chance you get. We've been a bad influence on you."

"Well, you all better shape up or you're going to get shipped out," said Cabe. "And if I ever walk in again on whatever the hell the doc and Walter were doing earlier, I'm gonna bust some heads. I'm too old to go looking for another job." With that, he turned and left the garage.

As the others went back to their desks, Walter walked up to Toby, who had wandered over to his own workstation. "I want to apologize for before," he said. "I shouldn't have tried to hit you."

"Yeah, well, I probably deserved it," replied the shrink. "I could have expressed myself better."

"I want to know why you can't leave us alone?" Walter asked. "It's none of your business what happened."

"You've just been placed on six months of probation and our job security has been threatened and you think this is none of our business?" Toby shook his head. 

"Nothing happened. They roughed me up a bit, but it was my fault," Walter explained, once again lying by omission. "I piss people off."

"That's true enough," said Toby. "I still think you and Paige need to continuing seeing Dr Rizzuto, but separately. You two have grown too dependent on each other. It's not healthy."

"I admit we have some feelings for each other but it's not. . ." said Walter quietly as he glanced from side to side, hoping everyone else was out of earshot.

"It's more than just feelings. It's borderline obsession." The psychiatrist shook his head. "But no one can force you or Paige to get help. You have to want it. And for whatever reasons, neither of you have reached that point yet." He sighed. "I just hope you do before you both spiral completely out of control and take the rest of us down with you."

He sauntered off toward Happy's work area and Walter watched as the couple interacted with each other. Toby was one to talk about obsessions. Gambling, alcohol, plus the shrink had been obsessed with Happy for years. His own relationship with Paige was nothing like theirs. Obsession played no part in it.

"Walter?"

He started as Paige came up beside him and touched his arm. "I'm going home for a few hours. Ralph and I both need to change our clothes. And we haven't been home since before the earthquake. I really should make sure everything is all right." 

"Okay." He stared at her, seeing the panic in her eyes which matched the apprehension he felt rising inside him at the thought of her leaving. "Uh, do you want me to come with you?" he asked. "In case there's damage or something, I-I could help."

"Um, sure." She smiled at him. "Ralph, come on, we're going," she called out, going over to her desk to pick up her belongings. Walter followed her and she handed him some of her stuff to carry. 

_Obsessed_. Walter scoffed as he and Paige walked out of the garage, hand in hand, with Ralph trailing along behind them. It made him wonder about the quality of the Harvard psychiatry department if one of its top graduates could be so wrong.


	6. Chapter 6

Walter stared at the piles of boxes stacked in front of his desk. They'd only been gone a few hours. Paige and Ralph had showered and changed while Walter had assessed the condo for any damage from the quake. The three of them had stopped for lunch at a Chucky Burger on the way back to work. 

"Where the heck did all this come from?" he asked, waving his arms.

"A delivery van showed up about half an hour after you left," stated Sly. "We didn't know what to do, so we just signed for them all."

"I did order a couple of things a few days ago." Walter was at a loss to explain the sheer volume of packages. He had no idea if the purchases he had made were somewhere amongst them. "My order must have gotten screwed up." His eyes narrowed as a thought occurred to him. "Or this is someone's idea of a prank." He glanced at Toby.

The shrink held up his hands. "Whoa, buddy, this is not my doing," he said. "If I was going to prank you, I'd put a whoopee cushion on your chair or replace the sugar with salt, not bankrupt you."

"Maybe we should open them?" said Happy, looking at one of the boxes. 

"No!" He didn't care they were all startled at his outburst, he didn't want anyone to know what he had bought. Not yet anyway. "I'll do it. Everyone else go back to work."

"We were waiting for you guys to come back so we could go eat," said Toby. "Guess we'll go now."

Walter waited until the others had left before approaching the nearest pile of boxes, picking up the one on top. Judging by its weight and size, it could possibly be one of the items he had ordered online. Pulling out his pocketknife, he sliced open the tape then peered inside. 

He was slapping the flaps back down when Paige came up to him. "What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing." He could feel his face burning and he knew she knew he was lying, but he wasn't about to tell her the package was full of sex toys. He definitely had _not_ ordered those. Vowing to check the return addresses first, he moved onto the next box. 

"Are you sure I can't help?" 

"You, ah, could call my credit card company," he suggested.

"Do you think you've been hacked?" Paige sounded skeptical. "But why would they send the merchandise to you? Most ID thieves buy stuff for themselves."

"I don't know," he said. "But it's the only thing that makes sense."

"Okay." He took his card from his wallet and handed it to her. While she was on the phone, he sorted through more of the packages. 

"Walter, they want to talk to you," Paige said as he found a box with the name of the website he'd ordered from on it. She handed him the phone, and he began the frustrating process of getting the unauthorized purchases erased from his card.

_____

****  
Friday Evening

"Where are we going?" Paige's question broke the silence as Walter steered his rusty Datsun down the familiar street leading to the garage. "Did you forget something?"

"Uh, no." At least he hoped he hadn't. He pulled up in front of the brick building and turned off the engine. Unbuckling, he then bolted from the car before jogging around to its passenger side, opening the door.

A long, shapely leg emerged from the vehicle and Walter inhaled sharply as the rest of Paige followed. She was wearing a black dress, the one she had worn during their mission in Bahari. The one that clung to her body, making all the blood rush away from his head. 

His heart was racing, his breathing was shallow, his palms were sweating. . . It was stupid to feel this way. He'd been on dates with other women. He'd been nervous about them as well. But none of them came close to matching the dread he now felt. None of those other women had been as important to him as Paige.

This dinner was just an excuse, a reason for them to be alone together. His ribs were healed. He'd calculated the odds of the evening ending in sex at 99%, and he didn't know whether it was that probability or the 1% chance of disappointment feeding his anxiety. He kept telling himself he didn't have to be perfect, she didn't expect perfect. For reasons he failed to comprehend, she loved him, flaws and all. But still. . .he wanted to make it perfect for her. Because he loved her.

He led her through the garage, now dark and quiet after he had sent everyone home two hours earlier. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Paige was frowning slightly and he wondered what she was thinking. Maybe his plan of surprising her hadn't been such a good idea after all.

Opening the door to the roof, he watched as her expression change as her eyes widened and a smile touched her lips. "Walter." She sounded breathless. "It's beautiful."

Paige glanced around at the lights and candles before focusing on the table in the middle of the patio. It was draped with a white linen tablecloth, set with floral patterned china dishes and gleaming silverware. A long stemmed red rose rested atop one of the plates. Soft music played in the background.

"Did you do all this?" She didn't mean to sound incredulous but. . . To think Walter O'Brien, the least romantic man she had ever met, had managed to do all this on his own. It was mind-boggling.

"Yes," he replied. "I, uh, I did some research on the internet, and. . .um. . . Do you like it?" He was staring at her, his eyes filled with uncertainty.

"I love it," she said, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. 

"Um, w-would you like to eat first or, uh. . .dance?"

"I thought you don't dance."

Walter's mouth curled into what she could only describe as a mischievous grin. "I've discovered it's not so bad." 

"Well, then, let's dance." 

Moving closer to the boombox, she saw his nervousness return. "You remember where to put your hands, don't you?" she teased, recalling their first dance. She'd had a feeling then he had never held a woman in his arms before, and what she'd learned since only confirmed her suspicions. 

"Yes." Paige shivered as he demonstrated he did indeed remember, placing his right hand on the small of her back. She rested her hand on his shoulder as they began to sway to the music. 

"D-Did I tell you, uh, how beautiful you look?" 

"No, but thank you," she said. "You look very handsome." And he did, in his dark grey suit and red tie.

"Uh, okay." He sounded doubtful.

"You don't think you're handsome?"

"I've never given it much thought," he said with a shrug.

"Well, I think you are," she said as she became aware of his fingers slipping lower until his hand lay flat on her bottom. With a smile, she slid her hand from his shoulder up to the back of his neck and into his hair.

She wasn't sure who moved first as their mouths met in a frenzied kiss, any pretense of dancing forgotten. He pulled her closer and she could feel him trembling. With need or fear or both? she wondered. His lips left hers to trail along her jaw then down her neck. His hands traveled upward until they were cupping her breasts. She gasped sharply at his touch as a mixture of pleasure and pain shot through her.

His hands lifted immediately. "Oh, damn. . .I'm. . .I'm sorry," he murmured, panting against her ear. "I didn't. . ."

"It's okay." Paige placed her hands in his. "You didn't hurt me. I'm not wearing a bra so I guess it's kind of sensitive. . .there."

Walter stared at her, his dark eyes filled with awe. After several moments, he opened his mouth to speak, although it took a couple of attempts for him to actually form coherent words. "Uh, um, are you r-ready. . ." he finally said. Oh, God, yes, she was more than ready. ". . .t-to eat d-dinner?"

"Dinner?" She took a few deep breaths. Of course he would have a schedule, and one he would stick to, because to do anything else would be inefficient. She chuckled softly.

"What?"

"Nothing. And yes, I'm ready," she said, smiling as he totally missed the innuendo. 

After he pulled out her chair, he picked up the rose on her plate and handed it to her. "Did you know flowers have meanings?" he asked. She nodded. "I had no idea. Who comes up with such sh. . . uh, stuff like that?" 

"Probably not scientists," she replied with a laugh. She held the rose to her nose. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

"It means love," he blurted out. "A red rose does," he added as his face turned the same color as the flower.

"I know." Paige kissed him on the cheek before she sat down. He scooted her chair forward, then stood awkwardly beside her. 

"I'll, uh, I'll get the salads," he said, before turning around and walking over to the mini-fridge Happy had installed next to the grill. 

She was impressed he had remembered her favorite salad dressing; raspberry vinaigrette; and wasn't surprised when he opened a bottle of sparkling cider, admitting he knew nothing about wine. Thinking it was probably a good idea they both go through the rest of the evening with clear heads, she told him it was fine. 

"Let me take that," he offered once she had finished her salad. He cleared their plates, going back over to the refrigerator and pulling out a covered dish. Then he turned off the grill before opening it. 

"Very efficient," she said as he placed a warm plate in front of her. 

"It's chicken piccata," he said, taking off its lid. "I-I didn't make it. I, uh. . ."

"It's okay, Walter," Paige cut in. "I'm sure it will be delicious." 

He sat back down and removed the cover from his food. Paige tried to hide a grin when she recognized his favorite meal, fermented herring in cod oil. She admired his dedication to his belief it improved brain function. She had tasted it once, and while not being the worst thing she'd ever eaten, she couldn't imagine wanting to eat it on a regular basis. 

She was on her second bite of her chicken when a breeze kicked up, causing a very unpleasant odor to reach her nose. Her stomach lurched and she could taste bile in the back of her throat. Oh, God. . . Clamping her hand over her mouth, Paige frantically searched for somewhere to throw up. Finally, she spotted a wastebasket near the grill. 

"Paige! Paige, are you okay?" She could barely hear Walter's shouts over the sounds of her retching. Once she had finished, she plopped down on the ground, gulping in as much air as she could.

"I'm sorry," she said as he knelt down beside her. "Your fish. . . The smell. . . Oh, no. . ." She hung her head over the bin once more.

"It's never bothered you before," he said when she was done. 

"Maybe it's gone bad or something." Paige closed her eyes as another wave of nausea swept over her. "I don't think you should eat it." She tried to push herself up, but Walter put his hands on her shoulders.

"You probably should take a moment," he said.

"No, I'm feeling better." At least her stomach had stopped churning. She glanced down at the front of her dress. "I, uh, need to go clean up." 

Seeing she was determined to stand up, Walter helped her to her feet. "Do you need me to. . .?"

"No, I'll be fine," she replied. Despite her reassurances, he walked with her to the door. "I'm really sorry, Walter. You went to all this trouble and. . ."

"It's okay," he lied. She frowned a little as she passed through the doorway but then smiled uncertainly before disappearing into the building.

Striding over to the table, Walter grabbed the back of his chair. Had she been pretending all this time that his fermented fish consumption didn't bother her? Was she willing to let herself get sick because she didn't want him to know she found it disgusting? And thanks to her and his heightened EQ, he knew he was being an ass for even thinking such thoughts. It still didn't change the fact his food had made her ill. He was beginning to believe the only person he needed to protect her from was himself.

With a snarl, he picked up his plate and threw it as hard as he could against the brick wall.


	7. Chapter 7

The silence on the way back to her condo was deafening. Paige could think of several reasons why Walter would be in such a bad mood. But she was positive she was wrong. It was something other than his failure to get her into bed. Hell, he could have had her on the couch the night she'd stayed over if all he had wanted was sex. No, there was something else bothering him. But she was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and it would take too much effort to find out. 

He walked her to her door. "Good night," he said before turning to go as she was digging in her purse for her keys. Paige grabbed his arm before he took two steps. 

"Walter, I'm really, really sorry," She glanced up at him, biting her lip. Okay, maybe she did want to know why he seemed upset with her. "I'm sorry I ruined tonight. I. . ."

"You didn't ruin anything," he said in a clipped voice. "I'm sorry you got sick. I, uh, hope you feel better."

"Thanks. I am feeling better already." She nodded her head toward her apartment. "You could come in. . ."

He stared at her for several moments and she could tell he was considering her offer. Then he shook his head. "No, I think it's best I go. Good night."

"Good night, Walter." Touching her hand to his face, she kissed his cheek. She then slowly let her fingers slide away, breaking the contact. For a second, she thought he had changed his mind, as a look of desire flashed in his eyes and he started to lean toward her. But then something seemed to snap inside him and he straightened. 

"I should go." He turned and headed for the stairs without another word.

Paige sagged against her door as she watched him walk away. After everything they'd been though, after he told her he loved her, after they had. . . If he thought he could go back to the way things had been before, blowing hot one minute, then coldly going out with other women the next, he was in for a big surprise. A very big surprise.

With a weary sigh, she unlocked her door and stepped inside her empty condo.

_____

It was a little after two when Walter gave up on any hope of sleeping. Images of the evening kept scrolling through his head, ones of him holding and kissing Paige alternating with her being sick then looking pale and sad. He had finally drifted off for a few minutes, only to be awakened by the recurring nightmare that had haunted him since they had been taken hostage. He dressed and went downstairs to work on a facial recognition program he had been developing.

After a couple hours of coding, he ran a diagnostic, using photographs he has taken of himself and the rest of the team as his database. Pictures flashed across his screen until it came to the end of the string, a shot of Paige smiling as she interacted with Ralph. 

A rush of emotions overwhelmed him. He'd never felt this way before about another person. All of his previous declarations; that love was imaginary, a junk science, a chemical reaction resulting in a temporary euphoric state. . . He couldn't believe he'd been so full of shit. Love might be an intangible but it was real. It had variables. Like the love he felt for Megan was slightly different than what he felt for Toby, Happy, and Sylvester. The love he felt for Ralph was different than what he felt for Cabe, one was not his son and the other not his father, but they filled those roles in his life. 

And he did love his actual parents, even though he'd treated them badly over the years. It wasn't their fault he had been born a genius they would never understand, although their combined genetics were a factor why he was the way he was. It could have just as easily gone the other way, and he could have ended up with a double digit IQ, content to be living in Ireland, mucking out stalls and staring at sheep all day. A shudder ran through him at the thought. 

But Paige. . . What he felt for her, he had no parallel. She had become the most important person in his life. But it worried him he might not be capable of loving her the way she deserved to be loved. That she would be better off with someone else, someone ‘normal.' Someone who wouldn't continually put her in harm's way. He'd proven beyond a shadow of a doubt he couldn't protect her. 

But the thought of losing her made his chest hurt. Which didn't make sense, since the heart was nothing more than a circulatory muscle and had nothing to do with love. But the pain he was experiencing was real. . .and frightening. He closed his eyes as his breathing hitched.

"Hey, Walter!" Cabe's voice roused him from his distress. A quick glance at his watch told him he'd been sitting there for at least an hour staring at the picture of Paige. The edge in the older man's voice told him Cabe had called out his name more than once.

Getting to his feet, he frowned at the Homeland agent. "What are you doing here so early?" he asked, running his hand over his face. "It's Saturday. We don't have a case, do we?"

The older man shook his head. "Nope, just dropping off this report. Why are you so grumpy? I thought you and Paige had a date last night." He placed a folder on her desk before glancing upstairs. "She's not still here, is she?" 

"How did you know we had a date?"

Cabe chuckled. "It was pretty obvious by the way you kicked everyone out of here last night," he said with a grin. "Plus Ralph told us." He looked upward again. "You didn't answer my question."

"No, she's not here." Walter picked up a pen and started fidgeting with it. "It. . .It was a disaster."

"What happened?"

"I thought it would be okay to have fermented herring, even though Toby said not to on a date," he confided. "But Paige has been around when I've eaten it before and she said she was fine with it. But. . .last night. . .the smell made her vomit. I had to take her back to her condo."

"You served that fermented gunk at a romantic dinner?" The agent rolled his eyes, then a serious expression came over his face. "She got sick? Come to think of it, I heard her throwing up a couple of mornings ago. I went to go use the bathroom but she was already in there. I thought she might have eaten some of that yogurt Sylvester tried to get me to eat the other night. That stuff was almost as bad as your fish.

"You know, son if she's been throwing up a lot lately, it usually means only one thing."

Walter was puzzled by the other man's words, although now that he thought about it, Paige had been ill more times in the last week than in the rest of the time he'd known her. Maybe she'd been exposed to a deadly toxin or bacteria or something equally as dangerous while they had been running around in the sewers after the earthquake. Yet another time he should have protected her, but failed.

"Rebecca had terrible morning sickness when she was carrying Amanda. All kinds of smells would set her off."

_Morning sickness_. Walter's knees buckled and he fell down into his chair. "Oh, shit."

"I'm guessing by your reaction, it's a possibility?" asked Cabe.

Walter nodded. Pregnant. Paige was pregnant. He was going to be a father. "B-B-But. . .it's im-impossible." She'd been on birth control pills. They'd only had intercourse once.

"Do I need to explain the birds and the bees to you, O'Brien?" 

"No. . .no, but. . ." He had to take several deep breaths. His first and only time and he had gotten Paige pregnant. The odds of that happening were. . . He couldn't even calculate them, his brain had stopped functioning. They had to be astronomical. 

"She hasn't told you yet?" Walter shook his head. "Well, I could be wrong. But if I'm not, I'll act surprised when you two announce it," said Cabe.

"Announce what?"

Walter's head snapped up as Paige strolled into the garage followed by Ralph and Sly. "Uh. . ." 

"Have you seen my marine biology textbook?" asked Ralph, saving Walter from having to make up a reply. "I don't have it and mom says it's not at home."

"Hey, here it is!" Sylvester picked the book up off the couch. He handed to the youngster, who stuffed it into his backpack.

"Okay, bye." Ralph started to head out the door.

"Wait a minute," said Paige, kneeling down so she was at her son's eye level. "You stay safe and listen to Sylvester and have fun. I love you." She kissed the top of his head before standing. The boy wrinkled his nose before continuing on his way.

"Thanks for the ride, Paige," said the human calculator. "It would have taken us over two hours by bus. And I swear I'll return him in one piece."

"Just see that you do." She laughed as she patted him on the shoulder before he followed Ralph out the door. Spinning back around, she smiled at the two remaining men. "You're here awful early on a Saturday, Cabe," she said as she took in the agent's striped polo shirt and dark green slacks. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you wear anything but a suit or fatigues."

"If you must know, I'm playing golf this morning with Cooper and some other Homeland brass," he stated. "Thought it might help to rub some shoulders, put in a good word for Scorpion and Walter."

"I'm sorry, " Walter began. "I didn't mean to cause trouble for you."

"It's all right, son. Heck, I might even have some fun." The agent grinned as he addressed Paige. "I finished that report you wanted. Wish me luck."

"Thanks. And good luck." She watched as Cabe walked across the garage and out the door. "So," she said, turning around to face Walter. "What are you going to announce?"

"A-A-Announce?" He seemed stunned, like he'd seen a ghost or something. Not that he believed in such nonsense, but she didn't know how else to describe his expression. 

"Are you all right?" She came over and sat on the edge of his desk. "You didn't eat the fish last night, did you? I'm pretty sure it was bad."

"N-No, I, uh, threw it away." 

"Good. I was worried you might eat it anyway. No point in both of us getting sick."

He was staring at her in a way that made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, yet at the same time was a bit disconcerting. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked again. "You seem. . ."

"I'm fine." He got to his feet. "Uh, we never had, um, dessert last night."

"No, we didn't," she said, unable to suppress a smile. "And I was really looking forward to dessert."

"I-I bought a salted caramel cheesecake," he replied, the double entendre completely flying over his head. "I, uh, know you like salty sweet."

"Salted caramel?" She loved salted caramel. "I've been craving salty sweet lately. And I haven't had any breakfast. . ."

"Uh. . .okay. It's upstairs. We can. . ."

She slid off his desk and held out her hand. He left her hanging for a moment, then, delicately, as if she were made of glass, took it in his and led her up to the loft. She snuck a few glances at him as they walked up the stairs, wondering what had put him in such a strange mood. What had he and Cabe been discussing before she had arrived?

He went over to the refrigerator and took out the cheesecake, placing it on the counter. Paige got out two plates, two forks, and a knife. Cutting it into eight pieces, she slid one onto each plate.

"Umm," she said after taking a bite. "Try it," she urged when she noticed he hadn't touched his, "it's delicious." 

Paige quickly polished off her wedge of cheesecake. Glancing at him, she noticed a piece of the dessert clinging to the left side of his mouth. "You have a. . ." She made a wiping motion with her hand. But he mirrored her move and went for the wrong side.

"Here, let me get it." She was going to clear it away with her finger, when a more intriguing idea came to mind. Leaning forward, she put her hands on his shoulders and licked the cheesecake from the corner of his lips.


	8. Chapter 8

_Leaning forward, she put her hands on his shoulders and licked the cheesecake from the corner of his lips._

Walter tried to jerk away but her grip on his shoulders kept him in place. Her mouth slid over his, kissing him softly and he couldn't help but to respond. She grew bolder, and he tasted the salty sweetness of the cheesecake as she teased his tongue with hers. 

He shouldn't be doing this, they shouldn't be doing this. . . Any thought of protest, however, fled as she ran her fingers through his hair and crushed herself against him. He placed his hands on her back, caressing his way down to her bottom. Closing his eyes, he felt her body soften as his hardened.

Then she pulled back and disappointment filled him until she started unbuttoning his shirt, methodically undoing each button. "Have I ever told you," she whispered into his ear before giving it a nip, "how sexy you look in your button-down shirts?" She flicked open the last button as his breathing grew shallower. "Especially when you roll up the sleeves. Drives me crazy."

"Uh. . ." She kissed him before he could reply. She then pushed his shirt off his shoulders and he helped her remove it. Slipping her hands under his t-shirt, she smiled shyly at him as she rubbed her palms against his bare chest. His knees nearly buckled as the contact made his head spin. 

She started walking backward, and he stumbled after her. "Couch or bed?" she murmured as her lips touched his cheek.

"Huh?" She repeated her question. "Bed." He had dreamt of her there for so long, doing all the things he'd ever imagined doing to her, ever since the day he'd met her. Definitely bed. 

They left a trail of clothing behind as they made their way to his bedroom. Paige fell back onto the mattress, still wearing her bra and underwear, and he almost landed on top her, rolling away at the last second so they were side by side. 

"Paige," he said, the fog in his head clearing a little. "Paige, wait. . ." If she was pregnant, he didn't want to do anything that would hurt her. . .or the baby. He had to admit he didn't know much about pregnancy. Toby would know, but the doc would be the last person he would ask for advice about this. 

She stared at him, her eyes full of what he now recognized as love and desire. "What?" 

"Nothing." He couldn't say no to her, not when she wanted him like this. Mindful of her reaction of the previous evening, Walter unclasped her bra, gently cupping her breasts as he kissed the tip of each one. His lips tingled as he could feel the heat of her body, smell the scent of lavender on her skin as he moved downward. 

He paused when he reached her abdomen. Resting his hands on her hips, he wondered if their child was growing inside her before placing a kiss just below her navel.

Paige watched as he put his mouth on her belly before moving down between her legs. He gazed up at her, his dark brown eyes seeking her approval. She nodded, shivering with anticipation as he slipped her panties down the length of her legs then slid his fingers back up again. A few moments passed before he touched his lips to her. A jolt of pleasure shot through her as he began using his tongue. It was obvious he had never done this before, but what he lacked in experience, he more than made up with in enthusiasm. She bit her lip, losing herself to the pleasure he was giving her.

"Oh, God, Walter," she cried out as he slipped a finger inside her, causing her to come.

He crawled up to lie beside her, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth before kissing her. She could still taste herself on his lips and vowed to return the favor. Another day, however, as she didn't think he was ready for that quite yet. He flipped onto his back, bringing her along so she was on top, straddling him.

"We don't have to do. . ." he began, resting his hands on her bottom.

"Oh, I think we do," she teased, deliberately misunderstanding him before lowering her mouth to his. She sank down onto him, feeling herself stretch as he filled her. "Relax and enjoy the ride,"she murmured as she swirled her tongue in his ear.

_____

Walter was gasping for breath as Paige collapsed on top of him. "Is it. . .is it always like this?" he asked once he could speak again.

"Like what?" She kissed his nose.

"So. . . so overwhelming. Intense." He was still shaking from the force of his release and he could feel her quivering around him.

She shook her head. "No, not always." 

"Oh." He couldn't stop the hint of dismay he heard in his voice.

"In fact," she said, running her hands through his hair, "it's never been this overwhelming for me before."

"Never?" He grinned as a strange mix of pride and something else he couldn't name swept over him.

"Never." She kissed his cheek. 

"I love you," he said. All of his doubts and worries disappeared. She was his and he was never letting her go. And even though he knew sometimes he might fail, he would protect her and Ralph and any future children they may have with his life if he had to

He pushed upward, rolling her gently onto her back. Lowering his head, he stopped when he saw she was crying. "What's wrong?" he asked, panic rushing through him as he tried to pull away. "Did I hurt you?"

"No." She wiped at the tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. "I'm just so happy. I love you, too, Walter."

She grasped his face in her hands and fiercely pressed her lips to his.

_____

Happy parked her truck next to the liaison's red Malibu. "Looks like Paige is still here," she commented.

"It's after noon," Toby replied, waggling his eyebrows. "Must be some date."

"Yeah, it's about time O'Brien got laid."

The shrink snapped his head around to stare at her. "How did you know he. . .?"

"It was pretty obvious, Doc," she said with a smirk. "Maybe now he won't be such a hard ass." 

"Oh, I imagine he'll continue to practice his own brand of hard ass-ery." He sighed. "It'll take more than the proverbial roll in the hay to cure him of that. Exhibit A: I left my wallet in my desk drawer because he practically shoved us all out the door yesterday because of his plans to get the divine Miss Dineen into the sack." 

"Speaking of which," said Happy, "you should let me go get it. I'm stealthier than you."

"This is very true," the psychiatrist agreed. "It's in the upper right hand drawer. . . Oh, crap."

"What?"

He glanced away, but not before she caught the guilty expression on his face. "The wallet should be right on top. No need to go searching under anything." 

Happy shook her head. "Like I'm interested in looking at your porn stash, you pervert." Opening her door, she got out of the truck, throwing a disgusted glance over her shoulder as she entered the garage.

She quietly made her way across the room to Toby's desk, noting there was nothing but silence coming from upstairs. Good. The last thing she wanted to hear was her friends getting it on. Pulling open the top drawer, she snatched up the billfold, which was resting on top of several thick folders. 

Shit, did he have it organized by type of debauchery or what? Curiosity got the better of her and she lifted up the top file. Underneath it, written in the doc's poor penmanship, was a note which read ‘Ha, ha I knew you'd look' with a sloppy smiley face drawn under it. 

Yanking open the door of her truck once she was back outside, she threw the wallet at his head. "Idiot."

He was laughing as he ducked, the billfold almost clipping his ear. "How long ago did you put that there?" she asked as she climbed into the driver's seat. 

"A couple of months back," he gasped out between guffaws. "Just waiting for the right opportunity."

"You're one sick puppy." But she was smiling as she said it.

_____

"I wish you didn't have to leave." Walter looked up from tying his shoes as Paige emerged from his bathroom. Her hair was still wet and a smile crept over his face as he thought of the shower they had just taken together.

"I know, but I have to pick up Ralph from Sylvester's, then I have a ton of laundry, and I need to go grocery shopping, and. . . You don't want to hear about my boring life of household drudgery," she said with a chuckle as she sat on the bed next to him.

"Yes, I do." His grin faded. The thought of her going back to her condo for the rest of the weekend was causing his stomach to churn. He wanted to go with her, to stay by her side, to not let her out of his sight. He didn't know how to ask her though. What if she said no? And why hadn't she said anything about being pregnant? She had to know, didn't she? She would tell him, wouldn't she? 

"Walter?" 

He was surprised to find himself staring at her. How long had he been doing so? "What?"

"I was thinking, that maybe, you could come with me?" she said. "Ralph could show you the robot he's been working on while I do my chores. He's been asking when you could come over and see it. Then we could all go out to dinner." 

Searching her face, he realized she was as reluctant to end their time together as he was. Heaving a sigh of relief, he stood up. "Yes."

"Maybe you could bring a change of clothes, you know, in case you get robot oil or whatever it is that Ralph manages to get all over himself," she suggested. 

He chewed on his lip. Was she asking him to spend the night at her apartment? Not that it mattered. He'd stay as long as she'd let him. "Uh, sure." Bending down, he finished with his shoe. "Just let me throw some stuff together."

Ten minutes later, they were walking hand in hand out the garage door.

_____

"Thanks again, Sylvester," Paige said as she stood in the entrance of the human calculator's apartment.

"Hey, it's no problem," he said before ruffling Ralph's hair. "We had fun, didn't we, buddy?"

"We saw a California Black Sea Hare," the boy genius said excitedly. "They're really rare."

"Ugh." Sly pulled a face. "It was disgusting. All big and slimy and gross. . ."

Paige's stomach lurched at the sea creature's graphic description. Oh, God, she was going to be sick. Gulping, she willed herself not to throw up, doubting her germaphobic coworker would appreciate her barfing all over his floor.

"Is that Walter waiting out in your car?" Sylvester's voice, full of curiosity, broke through her struggle. "Why didn't he come in? So, are you guys like, still on your date?" 

His prying questions caused her nausea to pass as she was overcome with exasperation. It was going to be impossible to keep their relationship a secret, not with nosy people like Toby, and unfiltered people like her son, around anyway. 

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes." She sighed and changed the subject. "Do you have all your stuff, Ralph?" The youngster scampered over to the couch to fetch his backpack. 

"For whatever it's worth, I think it's great you and Walter are finally together," said Sly. "You're good for him." He smiled nervously.

Feeling bad for snapping at him, she patted his arm. "Thanks, Sylvester. Come on, Ralph."

They said their goodbyes before heading down the stairs to the apartment complex's parking lot. Ralph ran ahead, greeting Walter enthusiastically before climbing into the back seat.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've used a tiny bit of the episode Adaptation (2x17) in this chapter. I've also changed the time line of events to suit my evil purposes.

Walter frowned when he saw Happy's truck parked outside the garage on Monday morning. If the mechanic was there, then so was Toby. And he imagined the shrink would have plenty to say about the two of them showing up at work together. Glancing over at Paige, he noticed she didn't look too thrilled at the prospect of dealing with the other man's shenanigans either.

His fear manifested almost immediately. "Wooo, what do we have here?" asked Toby, practically skipping up to them. 

"Just shut up," snarled Walter. 

"You'd think you'd be in a better mood."

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"It means most people are more relaxed and less uptight after they've. . ." Toby smiled mischievously as he made a crude hand gesture. His grin disappeared as Walter stepped up to him, his hands coiled into fists. "Cabe said no more fighting," the psychiatrist warned, moving back.

"Cabe isn't the one having to deal with your bullshit." 

"Language, 197, we have some virgin ears around here. . . Oh wait. . ."

"What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?" Dammit, how would Toby, or anyone else for that matter, know he'd never had sex until a month ago? Paige was the only one who knew, and he was positive she had told no one else.

The garage door creaked open, prematurely ending the childish conversation as Cabe and another man strolled inside.

"This is Federal Drug Agent Sanchez from Mexico," the Homeland agent announced. "He needs our help."

The rest of the day was spent building a pulse gun that would fry the circuitry of drones carrying bricks of heroin across the border from Mexico. The team spent most of the morning scrounging the garage for the parts they needed to construct the prototype

Walter was digging through a box of miscellaneous parts. Beside him, Paige was waving her hands and coughing as a cloud of dust rose from the box she was sorting through.

"Will this work?" she asked, holding up an old rifle stock.

"Yes, it's exactly what I need. Thanks."

"Tell me why you have so much junk just lying around," Paige said as she handed him the stripped down gun.

"In case I might need it someday." He smiled at her. "Most of it came with the building. The landlord said I could use whatever I wanted." Shrugging, he added, "It's one of the reasons I chose the garage for Scorpion's headquarters. That and I could afford the rent."

Paige laughed. "Most people would pass on a place full of garbage, even if the rent was cheap. You are definitely one of a kind, Walter O'Brien." She aimed a kiss at his cheek, but he turned his head at the same time, and caught her lips with his. 

Within seconds, he had her pressed up against the nearest wall, not caring he was breaking his own rule of no fraternization during work hours. She was so soft and sweet, and the moans she was making as he kissed her throat were driving him mad. He didn't realize he was still holding the rifle stock until it fell out of his hand as he tried to cup her bottom. 

The clatter it made startled him back to reality and the fact he had just been ravishing a co-worker. The fact that he loved her and she might be carrying his child were not sufficient excuses for his lapse. 

"I'm sorry," he said as he bent down to pick up the gun stock. "That was unprofessional. I-I. . ." 

"Walter, it's okay." Paige bit her lip. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have tried to kiss you." She turned away as her cheeks glowed pink. "I should let you get back to work. And I need to make arrangements for a sitter for Ralph."

"It wasn't your fault. It was. . ."

"Hey, what's going on over there?" Toby's voice carried across the garage. "Happy's almost done with the generator."

With one more guilty glance at Paige, Walter hurried over to his workbench to finish his end of the project.

_____

Later that evening, as the team was getting ready to fly to Arizona to test the pulse gun the next morning, Walter approached Toby as the shrink was sitting next to Happy on the couch. Their packed duffels were on the floor next to their feet.

"Toby, you're not coming with us to Yuma." Crossing his arms over his chest , he continued, "There's nothing in the desert for you to profile, so you're staying here and manning the uplink for the radar and coms."

The shrink shot to his feet. "Is Paige going?"

"Yes."

"Why? There's nothing in the desert for her to translate for you but lizards and cacti." Toby inched closer. "If she goes, I go. If she stays, I'll stay."

"You don't get to make decisions for the team, that's my job." Walter's breathing grew harsh at the thought of leaving Paige behind while he and the others went out of state. To have so much distance between them. . . What if something happened to her. . . or the baby. . . He felt sick.

"And if I thought for one second you were being objective, I'd agree with you," said the shrink. "You're having a panic attack at the mere suggestion of going without her. She's not necessary to the mission and you know it."

"Dammit." Walter closed his eyes in frustration. Toby was right. . .again. . .and it pissed him off to admit it. "Fine, have it your way. You and Paige both stay. And if it blows up in our faces, it will be your fault, not mine."

He heard a gasp and spun around. Paige was standing behind him, a terror-stricken expression on her face. "Walter. . ."

Hurrying over to her, he put his hands on her shoulders, sliding them downward until they rested on her waist. "I don't like this anymore than you do," he said. "But it's the only way to get him to stay behind," he added as her eyes filled with tears. "I'll be back by this time tomorrow. Okay?"

She nodded, wiping at her face before replying. "Okay. Be careful." She kissed him on the cheek.

"I will." 

He had no idea how long they stood there, staring into each other's eyes, but it must have been longer than he thought as he heard the irritation in Cabe's voice as the agent called out, "O'Brien. Let's move out."

Reluctantly letting her go, Walter followed the rest of the team out of the garage, resisting the urge to throw one final glance over his shoulder.

_____

"Don't even start with me, Toby," Paige said as the door closed behind Walter and the others. She'd had enough of him and his constant meddling. "I'm going home to my son and I'll be back in the morning to help out."

"Ralph came to me, you know," said the shrink.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"About going to the therapist. Ralph came to me. He's worried about you. Walter, too. You two are the most important people in his life."

"You think I don't know that?" Paige gathered up her belongings. "I need to go."

"Running away from your problems isn't the answer," said Toby. "I should know, I've been doing it most of my life."

"I'm not running away from anything," she replied. "Walter and I are just fine."

"No, you're not. I'm concerned about both of you. We all are."

"You have an odd way of showing it," she said with an exasperated sigh. "Listen, Toby, I'm tired and I'm going home. Good night."

He stepped into her path. "I'm not just being a jerk, you know. I really do care. You're my friends. And I've never had many of those until Scorpion."

She crossed her arms over her chest and studied him. "You've been antagonizing Walter on purpose, haven't you?"

"I plead the fifth," Toby said with an air of false innocence. "But I will say it's the only way to get through that thick head of his. He's never let a situation affect him like this before. Ever."

"You don't know that," she said, feeling the need to defend Walter. "Maybe other cases have bothered him and you just didn't. . ."

"They haven't, trust me." Toby sighed. "Even with his heightened sense of EQ, thanks to you, he's never displayed this much emotion. You were there when his sister died; you know he kept her ashes in a coffee can in his glove box. It took him six weeks to admit her death devastated him. And it was only because we kept on him about it."

"Well, that was different, it was his sister, not a mission."

"He's exhibiting the same stunted emotional reactions. Only with you, he has something living and breathing to cling to instead of a coffee can. He's overprotective, possessive, has fits of irrational anger, prone to violence. . . Something is bothering him, something he's buried so deep, he doesn't even know it's what's causing his behavior."

"So what do you want me to do about it?" Paige adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder. "Listen, Toby, I need to go home and tell the sitter she can go. Every minute I waste here arguing with you about stuff that's none of your business is a minute I could be spending with my son. So get out of my way."

The psychiatrist held up his hands as he stepped out of her way. "Just think about what I've said."

"Good night, Toby," she said as she stalked past him and out of the garage.

_____

Paige's phone buzzed a little after two a.m. She couldn't sleep, even tired as she was. Glancing at the identity of her caller, she smiled as she touched the answer icon.

"Hello."

"Paige? Hi, uh, this is Walter, um. . . I, we made it to Yuma without incident. Oh, damn, uh, sorry. I didn't wake you up, did I?" 

"No, I can't sleep."

"I can't either. I'm sharing a room with Sylvester."

She chuckled. The human calculator was notorious for his snoring. She heard noises in the background that didn't sound like their wheezing friend. "Are you outside?"

"Yeah, it's actually quite warm here." 

"You called me at two in the morning to tell me that?"

"Uh, well, no," he said. He was silent for a couple of moments.

"This is where you ask what I'm wearing," she teased, knowing he would never get the reference.

"It's the middle of the night," he stated, and she swore she could hear him frown. "It would be logical to assume you're wearing your pajamas."

"What if I wasn't?"

"What if you. . .? Oh. Um. . ." Paige smiled as he finally caught on. "I, uh. . .I. . ."

"I'm sorry, I am wearing pjs," she said. "I shouldn't tease. . ."

"No, uh, it's okay. Like I said, I can't sleep anyway." She heard him sigh. "I shouldn't have listened to Toby. I should have. . . I need you to be here." 

"Walter, it's okay. I wish I could be there, too," she said, her anxiety at being so far away from him threatening to overwhelm her. "But you'll be back tomorrow, I mean later today," she added as she glanced at her alarm clock as she tried to calm both herself and him. "You need to sleep."

"I can't. I can't sleep. I can't stop thinking. . . I should have insisted. . . Damn Toby, anyway." His voice grew louder with each word, an edge of panic in his tone. 

"Get your ass back to bed, O'Brien." Happy's pissed off voice rang out in the background. "Some of us are trying to sleep."

"Sorry," Walter replied tersely as a window was slammed shut. "I should go."

"She's right though. You really should get some rest," she said, feeling like she was about to cry. "I love you, Walter."

"I-I, uh, you, too." 

"Good night."

"G-Good night."

Paige ended the call then rolled over onto her side, clutching her pillow. Biting her lip, she let her tears flow down her face.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Using more of Adaptation (2x17) in this chapter, again manipulating events to fit my story. I'm starting to feel like an evil mastermind, bending the episodes to my will.

The next morning, Paige returned to the garage after dropping Ralph off at school. Toby was already there, setting up the command center. 

"Well, good morning, Miss Dineen," he said a little too cheerfully as he flipped on the radar screen. "Sleep well?"

"Yes," she lied as she went to go make a pot of coffee. "And you?"

"Like a log." He smiled mischievously at her. "Didn't see any point in going home, so I slept here last night."

"Oh." Oh, God, he hadn't slept in Walter's bed, had he? The sheets hadn't been changed since she and Walter. . . Oh, God. She took a good look at the shrink and noticed he was wearing different clothing than the night before. And his hair was damp. 

Paige closed her eyes. At least the water should have washed away any evidence of what they had done in the shower stall. Feeling the heat rising on her cheeks, she averted her head and switched to a safer topic of conversation. "Any word from the rest of the team yet?"

"I slept on the couch down here in case you're wondering."

"Why would I wonder about that?"

He shrugged as he plugged in a speaker. "No idea." His grin grew broader. "And no, they haven't checked in. They're probably eating breakfast."

"Nope, we've just arrived at the informant's coordinates." Cabe's low growl filled the room. "Happy, you finish juicing the surveillance van's radar?" 

"Yeah, we'll see the drone before it sees us."

"How we looking, Doc?" asked the Homeland agent.

"You have full com, cell, and radar capabilities. Signal's hot, just like my girlfriend." The psychiatrist waggled his eyebrows as Paige rolled her eyes. 

"Cut the chatter, Toby." She could hear the irritation in Walter's words. "Sly, you ready?"

"Hang in there, Birdroni," whispered Sylvester. "Be strong." 

Paige smiled as she and Toby listened as the pulse gun took down the human calculator's pet drone. "Gizmo works," said Cabe.

The excitement over their success was short-lived. "Hey, radar's showing incoming!" shouted Happy. "Doc, you seeing this?"

"Yep, we got a sky full of bogies coming from the southeast, 151 degrees," the shrink confirmed.

"This isn't a test flight," Walter murmured. "This is a full shipment."

"He's right," said Agent Sanchez.

"It's worse than that." Paige caught a hint of panic in Walter's tone. "The lead drone is weaponized and has a camera that's locked on us."

Gunfire burst over the speaker. "Walter!" Then it became eerily silent. "Walter!" 

"We're okay," he reassured her. "Everyone's okay." 

"They must've gotten intel that law enforcement was on to them," Cabe said.

"Oh, God." Paige pointed at the screen before covering her mouth with her hand.

"Guys. . .you've got another wave inbound, a few miles out," said Toby. 

Paige listened as the others figured out how to stop the new shipment from going through, using radio waves to force the drug-laden drones single file so Walter could easily knock them out of the sky with the pulse gun. 

"It's working," she whispered as she watched the blips disappear on the screen.

"Dammit." Paige could feel Walter's frustration over the link.

"Walter, what happened?"

"One got through. It must have been immune to our pulse gun. We have to get to that drone before they do."

"Walter, no." Her plea went unanswered as car doors slammed and tires squealed. 

"It's off the radar," Toby informed them. "You're on your own tracking it down."

"Copy that. We're going in the direction that we saw it heading."

_____

Fifteen minutes later, the sound of more gunfire over the com link made Paige tremble with fear. "Walter! Walter!" she yelled.

"We're okay," he finally responded. "What? Dammit. Sanchez's been shot."

"Oh, God." Paige covered her mouth with her hand as her stomach churned. 

Toby began spouting off instructions but she tuned him out. Walter was okay, she kept telling herself. He was okay.

"Paige! Hey, snap out of it." She jumped as Toby shook her shoulder. "You need to let the Medevac team know Happy and Sly are taking Sanchez to a coyote shack a mile north of their position."

"What? A coyote shack? Okay." She did as he requested then went back to worrying about Walter. 

With half an ear, she listened as the team split up, focusing her attention on Walter. Her interest was diverted for a moment when Sylvester announced Happy was outside throwing up. Paige shot a glance at Toby, wondering if there was another reason for the mechanic's sickness besides the sight of blood. 

"Uh, Toby?" Sly said anxiously. "Sanchez can't breathe and his lips are turning blue."

"Shit, the bullet must have punctured his lung. . ." 

_Punctured lung. Oh God_. Images of Walter, propped up on the old musty mattress, his hands and feet bound, his breathing growing shallower by the second. He was dying right before her eyes and she could do nothing to stop it. A wave of helplessness and despair swept over her and her vision started to dim. 

She could hear someone shouting, but it sounded like it was coming from a million miles away. _Walter, I have to help Walter. Please. . . Walter. . ._

_____

"Paige! Paige!" Toby's frantic shouts rang through Walter's com. "Paige! Crap, I don't have time for this."

"Is something wrong with Paige? Toby! Answer me."

"Cut the chatter, 197, I'm trying to save a man's life." The shrink rattled off more instructions on how to syphon off the fluids building up in Sanchez's lung. 

"Dammit, Toby, what the hell is wrong with Paige?"

"She's curled up in a ball on the floor. Does that answer your question?" snapped Toby. "Now shut up and let me work my magic."

A sharp smack to his arm drew Walter's attention back to their dilemma. Cabe took out his ear piece, indicating he should do the same.

"You need to keep your head together, son," the agent barked as the truck he was driving bounced along the dirt road. "She say anything to you yet?"

Walter shook his head just as a bullet shattered the mirror on his side of the truck. Both he and Cabe ducked as more shots came from behind.

"Looks like they've caught up with us," the older man pointed out unnecessarily.

Sticking his com back into his ear, Walter heard Sly's voice. "Sanchez says there's a switchback at the end of the canyon." Walter relayed the information to the Homeland agent, who tried to restore his own com as the truck hit a rut. The earpiece flew out of his hand and rolled under the seat.

"Dammit." Gallo gripped the wheel with both hands. "Where the hell is this switchback? This is a big desert. I need details."

"You need to turn left at a fork in the road," Sylvester replied. 

"Left?" Panic was making Walter's head spin. Being shot at, not knowing where they were, their only contact wounded and possibly dying. And Paige. . . What was wrong with her? What if she was having a miscarriage? He hadn't even realized he wanted a child until he learned she might be pregnant. If she lost it. . . Pain tore through his chest.

"Right," the human calculator broke through his misery. "You need to. . ." A blare of static pierced Walter's ear.

"Right? Sylvester, which is it?" Tapping on his com, he glanced up to see the fork in the dirt road growing closer. 

". . .right. . ." Sly sounded like he was speaking into a tunnel, then the transmission broke up again. 

"Goddamn it, Walter," growled Cabe. "Which way?"

"To the right," he pointed, hoping he was correct.

He wasn't.

_____

"Paige! Paige!"

Walter. Oh, God, Walter. Paige opened her eyes, surprised to find herself sitting on the couch, Walter kneeling before her. For a moment, she thought she must be hallucinating. Walter was somewhere along the Arizona/Mexico border, shooting down drug smuggling drones. 

With a hand she absently noted was trembling, she reached out and placed it on his cheek, feeling the stubble roughened skin under her fingertips. He was real. Oh, God, he was alive. "Walter," she whispered almost inaudibly.

"Are you okay?" he asked. She was confused by his terrified expression. What had happened? Was someone dead? 

"I'm fine," she said. "Why are you here? You can't be back already."

He turned to look at someone and she followed his movement. Toby stood a few feet away, his face full of concern. Oh, no, someone was dead. Someone they were afraid to tell her. . .

"Where's Ralph?" she demanded, trying to stand up. "Where's my son?" Walter put his hands on her shoulders and pressed her back down onto the sofa. 

"Ralph's fine, he's at aftercare," he stated briskly. "Paige, it's after five o'clock. The case is over, we stopped the bad guys, and everyone's okay. Well, Sanchez is in the hospital but he's going to be. . ."

"Sanchez?" Oh right, the Mexican drug enforcement agent. "It can't be that late. Did I fall asleep?"

"No." It was the shrink who answered her this time. "You've been catatonic."

"Catatonic?"

"Yes. Something must have triggered you, causing you to withdraw." The psychiatrist sighed wearily. "I was in the middle of coaching Happy and Sly on how to drain fluid from Sanchez's lung, and I wasn't paying. . ."

_Lung. Punctured lung_. It all came rushing back to her. The agent being shot, cactus, tequila, Walter. . . _Oh, God, Walter_. She put her hands on his chest, checking to make sure he was all right, pausing when his breath hitched as she touched his stomach. 

"You're hurt," she accused him, yanking up his shirt. There were a couple of new red welts that stood out among the still fading bruises he had received a month earlier. "You need help."

"I'm fine," he tried to reassure her, "I got punched a couple of times, but that's all. . . Paige. . ."

Once again, she reached her hand toward him, gently stroking the discolored areas on his skin. "You were dying. . .and I. . .I couldn't stop. . .I couldn't help. . ."

Glancing up, her breath caught in her throat as she saw his face crumple. She reached for him as he reached for her, burying her head into his shoulder as she burst into tears. Dampness on the neck of her thin cotton blouse told her he was crying too.

Then Walter pulled back, touching his forehead to hers and cradling her face in his hands. "You were going to let them. . .let them. . ." His words faltered as he stared into her eyes.

"I had to," she whispered. "They were going to kill you if I didn't."

"They were going to kill me anyway." His left hand stroked her hair away from her cheek. "And I couldn't stop them. . . I couldn't stop you. . . 

"There wasn't anything you could have done, Walter. It was the only way to save you. They would have hurt me if I'd tried to fight them."

"He had a knife at your throat." He ran his thumb over the scar on her jaw. "They could have hurt you after. . . I failed you so miserably. I was supposed to keep you safe and I didn't." 

"Dammit, Walter, you were dying! Dying!" Paige's outburst shocked him. 

"Yes, and that was my fault, too," he retorted. "I left you vulnerable. Those men would never have tried to. . .tried to. . .r-r-ape you if I'd had been able to protect you."

"Is that why you're so angry? Because you couldn't defend me against those men?" Narrowing her eyes, she continued, "Are you angry with yourself? Or are you angry with me because I was going to let them. . ." 

"Yes." Walter took a deep breath as her words hit home. "I didn't want them touching you. Why would you let them. . .?" Tears spilled down his cheeks but he didn't care.

"Walter, it didn't matter what they did to me," she said. "As long as I could keep you alive, there was hope. And I needed that hope to keep myself alive."

He stared at her, saw the truth of her words in her eyes, wondered what he had done to deserve her. "I love you," he murmured.

"I love you, too."

They reached for each other again, their mouths meeting in a fevered kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Break it up, you two. Am I gonna have to get a hose?" 

Toby's voice infiltrated the fog surrounding Walter's brain. Tearing his lips away from Paige's, he realized she was pushed back against the cushions of the sofa and he was more or less lying on top of her. Her glazed eyes met his as they both became conscious of the fact they were not alone. 

He rolled off of her, sitting in the empty space on her right side. Walter buried his face in his hands, rubbing his damp cheeks, before catching a glimpse of the others in the room. The rest of the team, except for Toby, were staring at him in open-mouthed horror. The shrink just looked concerned.

Walter glanced at Paige, whose face was bright red. "Oh, God," she whispered before covering her face with her hands. 

Cabe cleared his throat. "Uh, maybe we should go pick up Ralph," he suggested, tapping Sylvester on the arm.

"Yes, we should," the human calculator agreed. His cheeks were as pink as Paige's as he took a step toward the couple on the couch, looking as if he was about to say something before pivoting around to follow the Homeland agent out the door.

"Holy hell," Toby began, "I'm sorry, guys, I had no idea. . ." He shook his head.

"Does this mean you'll leave us alone now?" asked Walter as he reached over, finding Paige's hand and clasping it tightly.

"Oh, no," the shrink replied. "If anything, it strengthens my belief you both need counseling more than ever. I'm going to set up appointments for each of you."

"Dammit, Toby." Walter closed his eyes, weary of the whole argument. A squeeze of his hand snapped his eyes back open and he turned to look at Paige. 

"I think we should go," she murmured, biting her lip. "If you hate me. . ."

"I don't hate you," he cut in. "I could never hate you. I. . ."

"Well, if you're angry with me then," said Paige. "We need to deal with this. Your anger, my. . .whatever. . ."

"Denial," Toby supplied. "Plus a bit of a martyr complex and. . ."

"Shut up, Doc."

The brittleness in Happy's voice caused them all to stare at her. "Leave her alone. She's had a tough enough time of it without you digging into her head."

With that, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the garage. It was obvious Toby was torn between rushing after her or staying to finish his discussion with them.

"Let her go," said Paige. Taking a deep breath that sounded like a sob, she continued, "She's right, I can't handle. . ." She stared down at the floor.

"Okay, okay, I'll back off. . .for now." The psychiatrist placed his hands on his hips as he glanced from her to Walter. "But I'm serious, you both need to continue seeing Dr Rizzuto."

"Fine," Walter agreed. "I don't know what you think he can accomplish but. . ."

"Did you even hear what you just said to each other? You've only admitted you're angry. You still don't know why."

"Maybe I don't want to know why." Rubbing at his eyes with his free hand, Walter then glared at the shrink. 

"You want to know the answer to everything," Paige said. "It's one of the first things I learned about you. And even if you don't, I. . .I think I need to talk to someone about what happened." 

He immediately felt like an ass. She'd had to deal with so much more than he had. He'd been nothing more than a worthless lump, while she. . . "I'll go," he acquiesced, "and I'll cooperate this time."

"That's all I ask," said Toby. 

Paige smiled shyly as she glanced at Walter. "Is it okay if Ralph and I stay here tonight?"

"You can stay as long as you like," he replied, grinning back at her. Not that they'd be able to do anything, but he still wanted her keep her close.

"Well, I can tell when I'm not wanted." The psychiatrist grabbed his gear and started to head out the door. "Oh, crap," he said, turning around. "Can I borrow a car? Happy and I rode in together yesterday and. . ."

"Take mine." Walter tossed his keys to the other man, which fell short by about a foot. The shrink made a lunge for them, tripping over his own feet, nearly face-planting onto the floor. Once he regained his balance, he snatched up the keys and sauntered toward the door. 

"Thanks. I just hope it doesn't get towed because the neighbors think it's an abandoned vehicle," he said, getting in one last gibe before exiting the garage.

_____

Toby walked toward Walter's piece of crap Datsun until the toot of a horn caused him to lift his head.

"Happy," he said as he climbed into the passenger seat of her truck. "I thought you'd be long gone."

"How else are you going to get home, numb nuts?" She was staring straight ahead as he buckled his seat belt.

"You wanna tell me what that was all about in there?"

"Nope." Happy started the engine and shifted into gear. "Take off your shrinking hat for the night and just be my boyfriend, all right?"

"Your boyfriend, huh? I can do that." He took off his hat and starting spinning it around on his right index finger.

"You hungry?" she asked as the truck came to a stop at a red light.

"I could eat, yes."

"Chucky Burger?"

"Sure, why not? I have a few arteries yet that remain unclogged."

"Don't you ever get tired of being right?" Happy kept looking out the windshield as they moved through the green light. 

"Not really, no," he said. "Comes with the territory of being a genius. I've learned to humbly accept it."

"Yeah, humbly." He heard the sarcasm in her voice before it became serious. "Even geniuses can make mistakes."

"Ooo, is that what. . ." She snapped her head around to glare at him. "Right, no shrinking. You're a hard woman, Happy Quinn."

"Are you complaining, Doc?"

"No, I don't believe I am." He leaned over and rested his head on her shoulder. "I love you."

She shrugged him off. "You're an idiot."

"That you love."

"Sure."

"That's the best I'm going to get tonight, isn't it?"

"Not if you shut up and play your cards right." She was once again keeping her eyes on the road, but he saw the corner of her mouth curl. He could definitely be quiet for what he hoped she had in mind.

_____

** Two Weeks Later **

"So let me get this straight," Dr Rizzuto said as he sat across from Walter. "It's all right for you to put your life on the line to save others. . . This greater good theory. . ." He made air quotes as he said ‘greater good.' ". . .you put so much stock into. . . Sacrifice the one to save the many." He shook his head. "But no one else is supposed to invoke it in order to save you?"

Walter glanced down at his shoes, noticing a small scuff mark near the toe of the left one. "Yes."

"So you think you're not worth saving?" the therapist asked. "A genius with a 197 IQ, someone smarter than Einstein? You see yourself as expendable?"

"Yes, if the situation warrants it."

"So when Ms Dineen was willing to let herself be raped in order to keep you alive, when she invoke the greater good, how did that make you feel?"

Walter clenched his fists. Ugly images filled his head as he relived those terrifying moments. "I didn't like it," he replied grudgingly

"She must have thought your life was worth saving even if she had to endure a few minutes of. . ."

"Shut up!" Jumping to his feet, Walter glared at the other man. "Just shut up!"

"Sit down." Rizzuto calmly stood as well, towering over him. Walter obeyed, tossing himself back down onto the couch. "Thank you. Let me ask this then. Why do you think she would sacrifice herself for you?"

"I don't know," he lied. Oh, he had thought of a few irrational reasons to explain her behavior, but none he wanted to admit to himself.

"Which part bothered you more, the sacrifice or the sex?

"Both," he blurted out. He got to his feet once again and began pacing. His mind was racing; pictures and sounds and thoughts, all tumbling over each other, trying to push themselves to the forefront of his brain. Giving his head a shake, he attempted to focus on an abstract painting hanging on the opposite wall.

"Well, we're finally getting somewhere," said Rizzuto. "Of course, no man wants to see the person he loves brutally raped. That's totally understandable."

"It wouldn't have been brutal," Walter murmured. "I don't think they really wanted to hurt her. They just wanted to. . ."

"Have sex with her? And she agreed?" 

"Yes. Why? Why would she. . .?" 

"Maybe she thought they would spare you if she didn't fight them?"

"She said that." Walter shook her head, his breathing growing harsh. "I was as good as dead anyway. She should have just let them kill me."

"To save you from having to see her have sex with other men?"

"Yes. . .no. . . I don't know." His chest began to hurt, his eyes grew blurry, and his stomach churned. He had to sit back down.

"You know, most sexual assaults are about power over the victim, about dominance, and not about sex. What makes you think this was about sex?"

"There was a hidden camera in the ceiling, in the light bulb. . ." Walter saw the therapist raise his eyebrows, no doubt remembering their first session which had been interrupted by the earthquake. ". . .and I. . .we had just. . . for the first time. . .and they must have watched us and. . ."

"And they thought if she would have intercourse with you, she'd have it with them too?"

"Yes. It was my fault. I should have stopped her. . . I tried to stop. . .but. . ." Rubbing his eyes, he continued, "But I couldn't and they saw. . ." 

"So she initiated the sex between you?" Walter nodded. The doctor looked thoughtful. "When you say it was the first time, do you mean it your first time together or your first time ever?"

It suddenly became very hard to breathe. "Both," he whispered, bracing himself for the jeering comments he knew would follow.

"Interesting," was all Rizzuto said. "But unfortunately, our time is up for today. We'll pick this up the same time next week."

"Fine." Walter couldn't move, he felt worse than when he'd been hanging off the side of the cliff in the wrecked Ferrari. 

"Walter, are you all right?" the therapist asked, looking concerned. "Physically, I mean."

"I'm okay, just. . ." He took a deep breath as he stood up. "I don't like to. . . It's hard for me to deal with. . ."

"Your emotions?" Rizzuto smiled. "Yes, I know. Why don't you stay in the reception area until you feel calmer? Have Emma make you a cup of herbal tea."

"No, I need to get back to work," he lied. They'd only had a few minor cases over the last couple of weeks, barely enough to keep them busy. He didn't know if Cabe was deliberately giving them easy missions or if there was genuinely nothing else to do. 

About five minutes later, Walter slid behind the wheel of his Datsun. Pulling out into traffic, he tried to keep his mind on the road, but it kept straying to thoughts of Paige and the gut-wrenching decision she'd had to make. 

Was it possible she loved him so much she would endure. . .what she'd been willing to endure? He knew he loved her enough to endure anything for her, even dying if he had to. It was rather unnerving to think she felt the same way. 

Absently noting he was nearing the garage, he stopped at an intersection before proceeding through it. Out of nowhere, a large dark vehicle t-boned his car, hitting it on the driver's side. Walter barely registered smashing his head against the window before he blacked out.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Using bits and pieces from "Ticker" (2x19) in this chapter. Also, sorry I've spent so much time in Walter's head lately. In my defense, it's an awesome place and he's so much fun to mentally torture.

Walter opened his eyes, blinking several times as he adjusted them to the bright light, and deduced he was once again in a hospital. He vaguely recalled riding in an ambulance, then being wheeled down hallways, medical personnel hovering over him. Reaching up, he felt padding on the left side of his head and saw blood on the shoulder of his shirt. Well, that explained the dull ache he felt there.

"Oh, good, Mr O'Brien, you're awake." A nurse bustled over to his bedside, grabbing his wrist before looking at her watch. Startled by the unexpected contact, pain shot through his brain as he flinched. Gritting his teeth, he tried to calm himself as the woman, whose name tag read ‘Diana', charted his vital signs and removed his IV.

"You have a mild concussion and an incision that needed sutures," she said briskly. "You're going to need someone to drive you home. We've tried to call the emergency contact you had in your wallet, but the number's no longer in service."

Walter closed his eyes. Damn. He'd had Megan listed as his contact and he'd never changed it after she. . .she died. "Sorry," he mumbled. He gave the nurse the phone number for the garage. "Anyone who answers can be told of my condition," he added.

"Can I get you anything?" Diana asked. "Water? Herbal tea?"

"No, I'm okay." She started to walk away. "Wait, do you know what happened to my car?"

"Oh, it was totaled," she replied. "From what the EMTs said, you were lucky you weren't more badly injured." 

"Oh." A lump formed in Walter's throat as he thought of his old, rusty, battered Datsun 280Z. When he'd bought it, it had been the sportiest vehicle he'd been able to afford. He'd always meant to fix it up but he either had no money or no time or both. His eyes grew damp.

It was just a stupid car, he scolded himself as he pinched the bridge of his nose. A means of transportation. To feel sad over its demise. . .was nothing more than sentimental garbage. 

"Car wreck, huh?" Walter turned to see a young girl sitting on the gurney next to his. She appeared to be about the same age as Ralph. 

"Yeah."

"Your fault?"

"I don't think so." Frowning, he tried to piece together what had happened, but his head began to throb. "What's wrong with you?" he asked as she didn't appear to be injured or visibly ill. 

"Heart transplant." The girl smiled. "My mom's filling out paper work. They're flying in a heart from Maine."

"Forty years ago, heart transplants were in their infancy, but with modern medicine, you'll be just. . . fine." He glanced at the book she was holding. "That's an advanced book for someone your age."

"I've been around so many doctors, I decided to become one," she said with a shrug.

"I have a friend who's a doctor," Walter volunteered. "He specializes in psychiatry."

"Maybe he can examine your head later?" She giggled and he couldn't stop himself from smiling.

"You're humorous. That's good. You know, humor is proven to boost the immune response and speed recovery." 

"Walter!"

Paige's worried voice caused him to look away from his companion as she hurried toward him, followed by Toby, Happy, and Sly. "Oh, God, are you okay?" She touched her hand to his bloody shirt before leaning over and kissing his cheek.

"I'm fine," Walter replied before explaining his injuries as Toby took off the bandage. 

"Not bad, shouldn't leave much of a scar," the shrink said as he admired the stitches. 

"You must be his doctor friend." Everyone turned to stare at the girl. "Hi, I'm Olivia."

"She's getting a heart transplant," Walter stated.

"Oh." Paige's face paled and he knew she was thinking about Ralph. He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. She smiled, but he noted her expression was still uneasy.

"I just got off the phone with the police," Cabe announced as he strolled into the room. "They found the black SUV that hit you abandoned a couple blocks from the scene. It'd been reported stolen about an hour earlier."

"Whoever stole it must have panicked," said Walter. "Ditched the car after the accident then ran."

"That would be the most likely scenario," agreed the agent. "But. . ."

"I knew there was going to be a ‘but'," Toby said with a chuckle. Happy smacked his arm.

"It's been wiped clean, no prints." Gallo shook his head. "It's being towed to the LAPD impound yard. I've lit a fire under their forensic team."

"You think someone stole a car to deliberately target Walter in a hit and run accident?" asked the shrink. "That's a bit far-fetched."

Cabe shrugged. "Not really. We've dealt with some pretty nasty characters. Maybe it's someone we've helped put away, maybe it's someone Walter's pissed off. . ."

"Or maybe it was just someone out joyriding," suggested Happy, "and Walter was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I think we should find out either way," Paige said quietly. "If someone's out there targeting one of us, what's to stop them from targeting the rest of us."

"She has a point," the Homeland agent said. "I can't think of anyone in particular off-hand, but if we go through all the case files, we can eliminate suspects by seeing who's still locked up and who's been sprung and might be looking for revenge." Everyone groaned at the thought of combing through the folders of paperwork.

"I've already checked on Collins," Gallo added as he tossed a glance Walter's way, "and he's where he's supposed to be." 

"Hit and run isn't his style anyway," Toby commented. "Too obvious. Too physical."

The nurse returned then. "I'm going to have to ask some of you to leave," she said. "I only need one of you to take responsibility for Mr O'Brien."

The rest of the team pointed at Paige before filing out of the emergency room. Walter listened inattentively as she and the nurse went over the instructions for his care. 

". . .and if you have questions, you can call the number on this form." Diana pointed to a dotted line. "If you will just sign here, Mrs O'Brien."

Paige shot Walter a startled glance. "Oh, I'm not. . .okay." She quickly wrote her name and handed it back to the other woman. The nurse then left, moving on to her next patient.

"It was nice meeting you, Olivia," Paige said, her cheeks still flushed pink as she smiled at the girl. "I hope everything goes well with your operation."

"Thanks." The girl glanced up from her book and smiled.

"Me, too," Walter added as he stood up. He wobbled a little and Paige reached out to steady him. 

"Are you sure you're all right?" She was staring at him worriedly and for a second, her face split in two before merging back together again.

"I just want to get out of here," he replied, dodging her question. An orderly appeared with a wheelchair and they soon joined the others who were waiting in the hospital lobby.

"Hey, maybe it's one of Walter's old girlfriends," said Toby as they walked out to the parking lot. "Oh, wait, they're both happily married, thanks to Walt dumping them."

"Very funny." Walter rolled his eyes then wished he hadn't. This time he saw two of everything, causing him to stumble. Paige caught him, glancing anxiously at him. 

"I think you should stay with me tonight," she murmured. "If you want to. . ."

"Yes." 

"Good." Paige led him to her car, which was parked next to Cabe's SUV. "I'm taking Walter with me," she told the others as she unlocked her Malibu. 

"Sure." "Okay." "Remember, no strenuous activity for twenty-four hours," Toby admonished with a smirk. 

Walter ignored the other man, shutting the door as he got into the passenger side of Paige's vehicle.

_____

Later that evening, Walter wandered into the kitchen where Paige was washing their dinner dishes. "Are you sure I can't help?" he asked.

"Positive," she said as she rinsed off a plate. "You should be resting."

"I'm tired of resting." He wasn't used to ‘taking it easy', he liked to keep his mind busy. He'd brought his laptop so he could work on his facial recognition program, but it made his head ache, and the double vision, although diminishing, was still plaguing him.

"You could help Ralph with his homework," she suggested.

"He could do that assignment in his sleep," Walter grumbled. 

"Read a book, watch TV, surf the internet. . ." Paige glanced at him. "I could make you a cup of herbal tea. Maybe that will help you relax."

Walter frowned as he realized he was being a nuisance. "That's okay. I'll go help Ralph." 

Paige smiled at him, then touched her finger to his nose, leaving behind a blob of soap bubbles. "Sorry," she giggled. 

Impulsively, he dipped his finger into the dish water, scooped up some of the bubbles and put them on her nose. She laughed again. Leaning forward, he kissed her, not caring the soap dripped down their faces as he pressed her against the cabinets. Her hands reached for his hair, grazing the wound on his head.

He grunted with pain. "Oh, God, Walter, I'm sorry." She pushed away then tentatively touched his cheek. "Are you okay?"

"It's f-fine." An image of walking in on his parents kissing in the kitchen, where his mother had been washing dishes, flashed through his mind. He'd been seven at the time and had been disgusted. Now, as an adult, he realized his parents, though they rarely showed it, genuinely loved each other. 

His hands were still loosely holding her hips and he pulled her closer before burying his face in her shoulder. He'd been such an idiot to deny loving her for so long.

"I love you, too, Walter," she whispered in his ear as if she were reading his mind. 

It was with great reluctance he let her go. "I, uh, better help, um, Ralph."

"Sure." She grinned before turning her attention to the sink full of dirty dishes.

His head swam a little, and he saw two Paiges for a moment. Giving himself a shake, he forced himself to walk out to the living room.

_____

As it did most nights, sleep eluded him. His head ached and he probably should have taken the pain reliever recommended by the nurse. Shifting so he could get comfortable, he closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing.

It was so light at first he didn't notice. But then it grew bolder, the insistent pressure of lips on a spot just below his ear. The scent of lavender flooded his senses. _Paige_. His heartbeat and breathing both became erratic as her mouth moved up to gently capture his ear lobe in her teeth. He felt her breath travel across his face as her lips met his.

The kiss deepened as she slipped her arms behind his neck, rolling so he was on top of her. "Paige, wait," he gasped. 

"Shhh." She placed her mouth against his again, threading her fingers through his hair. He slid his hands downward until they rested on her hips. Their clothing seemed to melt away and it nearly took his breath away when bare skin met bare skin. She was so soft and warm and beautiful. . .

He moved his lips to the spot below her ear, felt her pulse beating wildly. He kissed his way down her neck, her shoulders, her breasts. . . She shifted impatiently beneath him as he ran his tongue over her hard nipples. Rising up, he kissed her on the mouth before whispering in her ear, "I need you so much."

"Well, I don't need you," she sneered, pushing him to the side. "You're a loser. . .a freak. . . I need a real man."

Walter watched in horror as a shadowy male figure joined her on the mattress. She welcomed the other man into her arms and into her body as she laughed mockingly.


	13. Chapter 13

Paige stumbled into the spare bedroom where Walter was thrashing around in the bed, alternately shouting and mumbling the word no. "Walter, Walter, it's all right," she murmured as she sat down on the mattress. Reaching out her hand, she touched his sweat drenched face.

His eyes popped open, filled with confusion, and pain. . .and anger. "Don't touch me," he snarled, slapping her fingers away.

"Walter, it's just a dream," she said with a calmness she didn't feel. "It's me, Paige."

Gulping for air, he struggled to sit up, running a hand over his face. "Oh, damn. . .sorry. . . I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, I'm okay. You were having a nightmare."

"I'm sor. . .sorry. I-I didn't mean to wake you." He was still trembling, his eyes still filled with terror.

"I wasn't sleeping," she said. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream, nightmare. . ."

"No."

Paige recognized the signs he was closing down and reached for his hands, hoping to keep him from shutting her out. "I've been discussing my dreams with Dr Rizzuto," she said. "It-It helps. I mean, I still have them, but they're not as often or as intense as they used to be. I could tell you about one of them."

"You don't have to. . ."

"I want to." 

She could hear resignation in his sigh. "Okay."

"We're in that room," she began, "and it was after we had. . .and the light bulb, and they came in and . . .they were beating you. But they don't stop. I try to stop them, but I can't, I can't move, and I feel so helpless. . ." She paused to take a deep breath. "But then they finally stop and. . .Oh, God. . ." Focusing her gaze on him, an image from her nightmare, his battered and bloody face, slid across her vision. "You're dying, barely breathing, coughing up blood. . ."

"Paige. . .no. . ." He squeezed her hands, an expression of horror on his face.

"Please, let me finish," she interrupted his protest. "I'm holding you in my arms and you're dying, and you're trying to tell me something but. . ." She bit her lip in a vain attempt to hold back her tears. "But you die before you can say it."

She ducked her head, wiping at her cheeks. "I know you're trying to tell me you love me, but you run out of time. I wake up crying."

She watched as he struggled to process what she had told him. "I'm. . .I'm sorry," he finally said. "I wish I hadn't been such a moron. I wish I hadn't fought my f-feelings for so long. I was scared. . . I-I'm still scared." He stared down as their clasped hands. "You could do so much better than me, s-someone who wouldn't require so much effort. . .s-someone with m-more experience. . ."

"I don't want anyone else. I want you." She squeezed his hands before releasing them. "I'm not perfect, Walter. Don't put me up on some kind of pedestal, I'll just fall off." Touching her fingers to his face, she continued, "I'm scared you'll grow tired of me, and. . .and want to experiment with other women. . ." 

"No, never," Walter vowed. "It's not like I haven't had other opportunities. . .I have. But something always held me back." He lifted his eyes to hers. "I. . .I think I was waiting for you." 

"Oh, God, Walter. . . That's. . ." Instead of finishing her thought, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

He fell back against the mattress, bringing her with him. She straddled him, and he could feel her heat through the layers of clothing and bedding. His hands caressed their way down her back as she nipped his ear. A loud groan escaped him as she rubbed herself against him. The unexpected sound brought them both back to their senses. 

"Sorry, I'm sorry," he murmured as she rolled off the bed. Neither of them had mentioned it, but so far, they'd never had sex while Ralph was under the same roof. The thought of the boy hearing them, or worse, walking in on them, cooled his ardor as effectively as a bucket of ice water.

"It's not your fault," she replied, sitting back down on the mattress. "I-I should go."

"No, stay." He scooted over and held up the comforter. "I, uh, nothing untoward, um, I. . ."

"It's okay, Walter, I'll stay," she said as she climbed in beside him. Paige snuggled her back against him and he encircled her in his arms, laying his hand on her still flat stomach. Not that her pregnancy would be obvious yet. She would be at six, nearly seven weeks. . .if she was pregnant. He'd done some research, research that had done little to ease his mind. There were so many variables, so many things that could go wrong, not just with the fetus but with the mother as well. 

Closing his eyes, he could feel her drifting off to sleep, doubtful he would be joining her any time soon.

_____

An distant, yet persistent beeping sound caused Paige to crack open an eyelid. It took a second for her to focus on the clock sitting on the nightstand, which wasn't _her_ nightstand. Oh, God, she was in the spare bedroom with Walter, and it was time to get up so she could get Ralph ready for school. Not that he needed her help much anymore other than the occasional prod.

She hopped out of the bed and hurried across the room as quietly as she could so she didn't disturb Walter. Stepping through the door, she quickly closed it behind her.

"Mom?"

Oh, damn. "Uh, Ralph. What do you want for breakfast?" she asked, hoping to divert his attention.

"Mom, it's okay if you and Walter are sleeping together."

"Ralph!" Her face felt like it was on fire. This was not a discussion she wanted to be having with her eleven-year old son at six-thirty in the morning.

"Mom," he said, dragging out the word into three syllables. "Approximately one third of the kids in my class have divorced parents and another third have parents who aren't married. There's one boy whose mom has a new sleep-over boyfriend every couple of months."

"Oh, God, Ralph, that's horrible." She made her way to the kitchen and he followed. 

"You and dad weren't married. And I know you and Walter are in love." He wrinkled his nose in disgust. 

She put a box of cereal on the table. "I know, but. . . Maybe I don't want you to grow up so soon."

Her son rolled his eyes. "Mom, I know how to look up stuff on the internet."

"You can't believe everything you read on the internet," she replied briskly, wondering just how much ‘stuff' he had looked up. "And you're banned from the computer for a week, except for homework."

"It's a little late for that."

"Do you want to make it a month?" He shook his head. "Good, now eat your breakfast."

She darted out of the room and straight into Walter who was standing around the corner. "Oh, God," she said, catching her breath. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Most of it." He grinned as he put his arms around her to steady her. "He's right, you know. He's a curious kid."

"I know," she said. "He probably knows more than I do."

"Don't worry," he reassured her. "I, uh, might have done the same. . .when I was his age. It wasn't until I was older that I thought about, um, putting my knowledge into practice." His cheeks grew red as he rubbed the back of his head. 

"Oh, God." She definitely didn't want to think about her son having sex. Probably not anymore than he wanted to think about her doing the same. "I have to get ready," she stated, not wanting to dwell on the uncomfortable subject any longer.

"I was planning to buy a new car today, and I, um, was wondering if you'd like to come with me?"

"Yeah, sure. Do you have a specific. . .?" 

He shrugged. "Wherever you bought your car is fine with me."

"Okay." She smiled. "Could you check to see if Ralph is eating his breakfast? There's cereal if you're hungry."

"Okay." Running his hand through his already messy curls, he shuffled toward the kitchen, giving her a great view of his butt in his low-slung sweatpants. Feeling her face flush again, she turned and dashed into the bathroom.

_____

"I have to use the restroom," Paige announced as Walter parked in front of the dealership.

"I'll just look around," he said. She gave him a quick smile then rushed inside the building. He followed, a little overwhelmed by the sheer volume of all the promotional items covering nearly every square inch of the interior. It was too much to take in all at once. Blinking, he scanned the room for something to focus on, stopping when he saw the bright red sports car in the middle of the showroom. 

A 2016 Corvette Stingray. It wasn't a Lamborghini or a Ferrari, but as an American-made sports car, it was the top of the line. Moving closer, he ran his fingertips over a sleek red fender. 

"She's a beauty, isn't she?"

Walter turned to see a man standing a few feet away. "Yes."

The salesman, whose name tag declared his name was ‘Daryl', took a step toward him. "She's got a 460 horsepower V-8 engine, with 465 maximum torque, does zero to sixty in 3.7 seconds."

"Impressive." Walter ducked under the open hood to check out the engine. "How does it handle?"

"Like a dream," said Daryl. "In fact, you can select from five different driving modes, depending on road conditions."

"Hmm." Walter peered inside the vehicle, noting the leather seats were not held together with duct tape. "Does it come with a manual transmission?"

"This one does. A seven-speed manual clutch system."

He glanced at the sticker price. $62,560. It would nearly empty out his bank account but. . .to own such a powerful, precision vehicle. . . It was a life-long dream.

"Nice car." Looking up, he watched Paige walking toward him and the salesman. Daryl's smile changed to a frown in a nanosecond, probably thinking Walter had no intention of buying the Corvette.

Which was true, if he was being honest with himself. The sports vehicle would be impractical for someone like him, a man in love with a woman with a child, with possibly another on the way. And even if she wasn't pregnant now, she might be in the future. 

Taking one last wistful glance at the shiny red roadster, Walter turned to the salesman. "I'm interested in something like that." He pointed to Paige's Malibu parked outside the showroom window.

Daryl sighed, and Walter noted the disappointment on the other man's face. "This way, folks," the salesman said as he led them out onto the sales lot.

_____

"I wonder what kind of car he bought," said Sylvester as he, Toby, and Happy stood outside. Walter had called earlier, telling them he had purchased a new vehicle, and he and Paige were on their way back to the garage.

"I'm guessing a muscle car," said the mechanic a bit excitedly. "Maybe a Mustang or a Charger. That would be sweet."

"I think you're wrong." Toby grinned at them. "I'll bet you he bought a safe sedate sedan."

Happy glared at him. "Bet?"

The shrink held up his hands. "Slip of the tongue," he replied. "Old habits die hard."

"I agree with Happy," Sly cut in. "He's wanted a real sports car ever since I've known him."

"We'll find out soon enough," said Happy, kicking a rock. "Here comes Paige."

The liaison drove up to the building in her Malibu, parking it in the nearest open space. An identical vehicle, except for its dark blue color, pulled up beside her.

"Damn I wish. . ." Toby started to say before Happy cut him off with a stare. 

They all watched as Walter got out of the safe and sedate sedan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd give everyone a break from my usual dramatic cliffhanger chapter endings. You're welcome.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to be ‘borrowing' big time from "Djibouti Call" (2x20) at the end of this chapter. Also, bad language ahead. 
> 
> I want to thank everyone for sticking with this fic and for all the kudos I've received so far. You all have been awesome.

Late Friday afternoon, Walter frowned as he hung up the phone. "Was that Cabe?" asked Happy as she walked up to his desk. "He doesn't have a case for us, does he? I have plans."

"No, not a case," he replied . "He's bringing in a new trainee on Monday. His name is Tim Armstrong."

"Sounds like a putz." Toby came over to stand beside the mechanic. "What do you wanna bet Cabe waited until we were on the verge of leaving for the weekend to tell us so we wouldn't have time to hack into the guy's records."

Sylvester chuckled. "It's like he doesn't even know us sometimes."

Paige joined the others gathered around Walter's desk. "Just out of curiosity, did you guys hack into my background before or after you asked me to be part of the team?"

"Neither." "Before." "After?" Walter, Toby, and Sly all answered at the same time. "I did not hack your records," added Walter. He glared at the other two men. 

"I just dug into your DMV file," the shrink offered. 

"I might have peeked at your college records." The human calculator's face had turned bright pink.

"I didn't care enough to bother," said Happy. "I figured if Walt trusted you, I was good with it."

"So nice to know my colleagues had so much faith in me." Paige crossed her arms over her chest.

"That's all water under the bridge," said Toby. "We all love you now. Granted, some of us more than others." He smirked at Walter, who rolled his eyes. "Now, if you'll excuse us, Happy and I have plans for the rest of the weekend." He threw his arm around her shoulders.

She slipped out of his hold. "I said I had plans."

"Do they include me?"

"I'll let you know." She spun around and walked away but not before everyone saw the smile on her lips.

"That's my cue," said the psychiatrist, adjusting his hat before following after her.

"Wait," Walter called out. Toby and Happy stopped in their tracks. "Cabe also said he got back the report from forensics about the vehicle that hit me. They didn't find any evidence that would lead to a suspect."

"So we're SOL," Toby said. "I still think it's far-fetched. . ."

"The fact someone took the time and trouble to leave no trace says a lot," Happy pointed out. "Someone out for a joyride wouldn't have bothered."

"But we still have no idea who would do such a thing and why." Paige waved her hand at the stack of files on her desk. "We've gone over every case with a fine-toothed comb. Everyone has been accounted for."

"Well, I for one, am not going to let it spoil my days off," announced the shrink. "Come on, Hap, let's get out of here." They continued on their way out of the garage.

"I should get going too," said Sylvester. "I'm deep cleaning my apartment this weekend."

"Sounds like fun," Paige said as he gathered up his gear before departing. "So. . ." She sat on the corner of Walter's desk. "What are we doing tonight?" 

"I thought we were going out to dinner?" He looked confused.

"Yes, but. . .is that all?"

Comprehension dawned in his eyes. "Oh, uh. . . But won't Ralph be there?" He grabbed his tie and loosened it.

"He's going over to Tyler's then they're going to a Forest Braves jamboree planning meeting. He won't be home until after ten." She knew she shouldn't be amused by his discomfort but she couldn't help herself. He was so cute when he was nervous.

"Okay. . . D-Did you decided where you want to eat?"

"I was thinking of a very exclusive place."

"Would. . .wouldn't we need reservations?" 

"Nope. I know the owner." She slid off the desk and moved closer. "You know her too."

"Y-You mean your place, don't you?"

"Yep." Paige smiled before she twirled around and walked over to her desk. "Whose car are we going to take?"

"Yours."

"You know, you've hardly driven your new car since you bought it."

He just shrugged. "It's easier to take yours."

She stared at him as he averted his eyes, stuffing his laptop into his backpack. "You didn't have to buy one like mine. You could have bought something else."

"Like what?" 

"Like that Corvette."

Shrugging again, he said, "I could have. But I didn't. What I bought is more efficient."

"Efficient." She chuckled at his use of his favorite word. "I saw you drooling over that ‘Vette. . ."

"I was not drooling."

"Well, not literally, anyway. You could have bought it if you wanted to. And I think you did."

"Dammit, Paige, if I had wanted to buy the Corvette, I would have bought the fucking Corvette!"

His shouted words echoed throughout the garage. Stunned, Paige watched as his anger swiftly became remorse. "Oh, God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He tossed aside his pack and took a step toward her. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I-I, uh. . ."

"I struck a nerve, didn't I?" she asked, still shaking a little from his outburst. "You did want to buy that car. Why didn't you?"

"I-I had m-my reasons." He was back to avoiding her gaze again, and she knew she wasn't going to get a better answer any time soon.

She sighed wearily. "Fine, we'll take my car. If you still want to go, that is."

"I-I. . . Yes."

She slipped on her jacket before picking up her purse. "You never did tell me about your nightmare the other night. You were angry with me then, too."

"I am not angry with you." His compressed lips and fisted hands told her a different story though.

"Sure seems like it to me." She took a deep breath. "You snapped at me, like you did just now. I need you to tell me what I've done that's made you so upset. It's the only way you're going to get over it."

"You've been listening to Toby." Walter began pacing back and forth behind his desk.

"Maybe I have," she said, and he heard the sarcasm in her tone. "He is a Harvard-trained psychiatrist after all."

He came to a halt, grabbing the back of his chair. "Fine. I'll tell you about my dream," he said, staring at the surface of his desk. "We're in that room and we're about to have. . .have sex. . .b-but you push me aside and call me a f-freak then let some other man. . .have. . .have you."

Lifting his head, he saw her biting her lip. "I would never do that. Never." Her eyes shimmered with tears.

"But you were going to let those men. . . Let them. . .have you. Was I so terrible, you'd let them. . ."

"Oh, my God, you think I wanted to. . .with those men?" Paige flung down her bag then strode over to stand across from him. "I was trying to save us. . .you. . .the only way I could. You thought I was going to enjoy it?"

"No, but. . ."

"Dammit, Walter, it wasn't about sex. It was never about sex. It was about how much I love you and how I wanted to keep you alive."

"I'm sorry." His words rasped in his throat. "I know that. It's. . .It's just. . .I know I'm not good enough for you and. . ."

"Stop it, just stop it," she cut in, pressing her fingers to her temples. "For someone who's a megalomaniac, you sure suffer from low self-esteem. I suppose you need me to tell you again you're the best lover I've ever had or that you have the biggest. . ." She waved a hand at his groin. "The sad part of it is, it's true. On both counts." 

Drawing in a ragged breath, she said, "Maybe we. . . Maybe we should take a break this weekend."

He stared at her, panic surging through his body. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, maybe I should go home and spend time with my son and you should stay here and spend time doing. . .I don't know, work on one of your projects, whatever. " She reached out and placed her hand on his. 

"I love you, Walter," she said, "please don't think I don't. It's just. . . Things between us got intense so fast and it feels like I can't catch my breath anymore." 

"Okay," he murmured, knowing she had a point. They had both been caught up in a whirlwind of emotions since they'd been held hostage, emotions he was having trouble dealing with. It didn't mean he had to like it though. But if it was what she wanted. . . "You're right, you should spend your days off with Ralph. I'll be fine."

"If you're sure?" He could tell she was wavering, the thought of spending time apart was making her as anxious as it was making him. Her face was pale as she wiped at her tear stained cheeks. Paler than normal. Was she ill? Or was it because she was pregnant? An urgent need to know, one way or the other, swept through him.

"Paige, are you. . .?"

His question trailed off as she raised her damp eyes to his. Oh, God, what if she wasn't? What if she'd lost the baby and hadn't even known she had been carrying it? Or what if. . . His stomach churned as he didn't even want to consider a third option. The desire to know vanished as quickly as it had come.

"Uh, have a pleasant weekend," he mumbled as he moved away from his desk, intending to go upstairs and. . .what? Cry? Break things? Scream until his lungs gave out? Because he felt like doing all three.

"Walter. . ." Her voice cracked but he didn't dare look at her. "Um, you, too." 

From the corner of his eye, he saw her pick up her things, then heard her footsteps carry her toward the door. As it creaked shut, he fought the urge to run after her, clenching and unclenching his fists until he heard her drive away.

His eyes zeroed in on the car keys sitting on his desk. The air in the garage abruptly felt oppressive and he needed to escape. Snatching up the keys, he hurried outside, unlocking his new car and getting behind the wheel. He started up the engine, hoping if he encountered any coyotes, they would know to stay the fuck out of his way this time.

_____

"What the heck is going on?" Walter walked down the stairs Monday morning as loud music blared throughout the building. He came to a halt at the sight of Toby dancing on his desk, wearing a coconut bra, as Ralph, Sylvester, and Happy watched.

"We dared Toby to dance," replied the boy genius. "I don't think he's trying though."

"Hey, I'm tired," said the shrink as he lazily wiggled his hips. "This is my second song."

Ralph crossed his arms. "The agreement was for three songs. Just dance, monkey."

Walter rolled his eyes. "Toby, you might want to take off your bra. Cabe and his new trainee are due to arrive any minute."

"Why would I do anything for that jerk?" 

"How do you know he's a jerk? You haven't even met him." Walter spun around as Paige emerged from the kitchen area carrying an egg bagel and a latte. To his dismay, she appeared well-rested and relaxed. Her weekend must have gone much better than his had.

"We know his type. Prom king, football star. . ." Toby said derisively.

"You hacked his records, didn't you?" Paige glared at the other man.

"You need more than a high school degree when evaluating someone," Sly chimed in.

"Thank you, Sylvester." Paige smiled at the human calculator.

"So I pulled his college record."

Paige let out an exasperated sigh. "And we're back to normal."

"There's a big gap in his history." Toby hopped down off his desk. "It's a total black hole."

"You're threatened by an intern?" Walter shook his head. "He's only going to be here for a few weeks. The efficient move is to accept him as part of the team until he moves on to his next assignment."

The door creaked open as Cabe walked through it. "Team Scorpion," he said as a tall, blond man entered the garage behind him. "Meet my new trainee. Tim Armstrong."

Walter took one look at the newcomer and his stomach twisted into a knot. Tim Armstrong was everything he would never be - normal. And the man was staring at Paige like he'd never seen a woman before.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More "Djibouti Call" (2x20) ‘borrowing' and I'm tossing a little "Twist & Shout" (2x21) into the mix as I'm jumbling up the time line again to suit my evil purposes. 
> 
> Sorry it's taken so long to update, I was on vacation last week. Went to Vancouver BC - great city, delicious food, interesting people. If you ever get the chance, go!

Walter watched as Paige stepped forward to greet the newcomer. It was part of her job as the teams's liaison, something she had done at least a dozen other times before. He'd never been bothered by it in the past, and he shouldn't be now. Yet he was.

"Well, hi, um. . ." she said, extending her right hand that was still holding the half-eaten bagel before snatching it back. "Welcome aboard."

"Thank you. I am, uh, thrilled to be here." The trainee smiled at her before making a wiping motion by his mouth. "Um, you got a little bit on your. . ."

Walter caught a glimpse of foam from her latte on her upper lip before she wiped it away with the back of her fingers. A small growl escaped him as the memory of her licking cheesecake from his lips . . .and what had happened afterward. . .popped into his head. His hands curled into fists at the thought of this interloper touching her in a similar manner.

Deciding a distraction was needed, he strode up to the trainee. "Um, Tim, I'm Walter O'Brien," he announced. 

"Hi." Tim eagerly shook his offered hand, giving him what Walter could only describe as a shy smile. Puzzled, Walter wondered if he was misreading shyness for something else. 

Mentally shrugging, he introduced the rest of the team and Ralph. "Happy," Tim addressed the mechanic. "I read up on the micro jack device that you designed to save that kid in the sinkhole. . .that was brilliant." 

"Um... thank you." Happy looked startled by his attempt to suck up to her. 

Toby moved closer to where she was sitting. "Uh, yeah, I actually helped her build that. I'm her boyfriend." 

Paige glanced over at Walter, wondering if he would claim they too were romantically involved. She was a bit disappointed when he remained silent, even though she did understand his reluctance to declare his feelings for her to a virtual stranger.

Plus it had been kind of juvenile of Toby to volunteer he and Happy were a couple, she told herself. It's not like they were in middle school. Although, and she smiled at the thought, Toby probably had been only six years old when he had been in middle school. That would explain a lot. 

The honking of a horn startled her from her musings. "Ralph, carpool's here," she called out as she went to help her son gather his belongings. "Bye, sweetie," she said, kissing the top of his head. He ducked out from under her lips and ran out the door.

"Uh, how was your weekend?" She whirled around as Walter stood behind her, taking a bite from an egg bagel.

"Oh, great. Ralph and I had a lot of fun," she lied. They had a lot of fun if fun meant cleaning their apartment, watching science documentaries, and ordering a pizza which must have given her food poisoning because she had been sick the next morning. She'd missed him terribly. "How was yours?"

"It was productive," he lied. It had been productive only if productive meant driving to San Francisco and back and only getting one speeding ticket. He'd missed her terribly.

"Hey, you two, get your asses over here," Cabe yelled at them. "This is important." 

Walter listened as the Homeland agent outlined their mission, installing a powerful audio surveillance system at an US military base in Djibouti. "That's impressive but a basic setup. Any decent audio engineer could do this. So why us?" Happy gave voice to his misgivings that the assignment appeared a little too easy. 

"The Feds want it properly installed, and they want it installed yesterday," replied Gallo. "They know we're good and fast, and they're willing to pay you for it."

"Guess we're going to Africa." Toby, still wearing his coconut bra, walked over to confront Tim. "You know, we like to learn about the people we're working with, Timothy. There's a chunk missing from your online history."

The other man chuckled. "I was a SEAL. Last year, I caught some shrapnel, some of which is still lodged in my lower back. So the Navy medically discharged me. I'm appealing their decision. I figured if I don't win, Homeland would be another option for me to serve my country."

Walter frowned as he slid a glance at Paige, who was standing next to him. He couldn't tell if she was impressed by the other man's heroics or not.

"I requested Scorpion detail because I've read about all of you," the newcomer continued. "And. . .you're amazing." He smiled at Walter again.

"Of course, we're amazing," the shrink agreed as Cabe offered to show Tim around and the two men moved out of earshot. "Maybe he's not such a putz after all."

Walter snorted. "No, you were spot on with your first assessment," he said. "He's a putz."

"Play nice," Paige murmured in his ear. "Like you said, he's a temporary trainee." She patted his shoulder. "I need to go make overnight arrangements for Ralph." 

"Okay." Keeping his gaze on her, trying to calm the apprehension swirling in his gut at the thought of her traveling to a third world country in her possible condition. That he was going with her did little to ease his anxiety.

"Uh, hey, boss."

Happy's words snapped him out of his head and he glanced over to where she was cramming tools into a duffel bag while Toby handed them to her.

"Hey, look who's here for a Djibouti call," quipped the doc, laughing loudly at his own joke. When no one else joined in, he quit abruptly and pointed at the door where a short, blonde woman stood.

"Linda?" What the hell was she doing here? And wearing a coat covering up what she had on underneath. Oh, shit. . .

"Hi, Walter," she said, moving toward him. She whipped open her coat, revealing a skirt and blouse. "See, no bomb this time. Just me."

He exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "Uh, what are you doing. . ."

"Doing here unannounced?" she finished his sentence as she bobbled her head. "In a bold and possibly embarrassing move?" Glancing around, Walter noticed both Paige and Happy were giving her what he considered hostile stares. Linda must have seen them too, because she added, "Um... ...can we talk in private?"

"Sure." He lead her to a far corner of the garage, wondering with every step why she had sought him out again. "So. . .is everything okay?" he asked once they had come to a halt.

"Oh, yes. Well, kind of. Um. . ." She glanced down at her shoes. "It's just. . .I've been thinking about you. A lot." Raising her head, she looked at him with wide eyes. 

"Oh." He wasn't sure how to process her words, whether to be flattered or concerned, although he was leaning toward the latter.

"I feel like I didn't give you a fair shot. Especially after you saved my live and all."

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" She thought he'd just let her get blown up because their date had been a failure? "It was partly my fault you were in that predicament. It was the responsible thing to do."

"Well, I'm taking responsibility for saying ‘no' to a date with a great guy," she announced. She smiled expectantly at him. "Unless you'd like to call it a ‘joint social endeavor'? We could go on one of those."

Oh, she wanted another date. He remembered asking her for a second date, but that seemed like such a long time ago. So much had happened since then. 

"I'm sorry," he began, rubbing the back of his head, "but, uh, I'm kind of in a relationship now."

"Kind of? You mean, you don't know?"

"It's kind of complicated at the moment," he said, not wanting to explain what he felt for Paige and that she might be pregnant with their child. "Listen, Linda. . .um. . .I'm not interested in dating you anymore. Or anyone else. Except the person I'm in the relationship with. . . Uh. . ." Realizing he was babbling, he stopped talking.

Linda moved closer, placing her hand on his arm. It took all his willpower not to jerk away from the unwelcome touch. "I know now I screwed up when I turned you down for another date. I really wish you would give me another chance, Walter. I think. . .I think we could be good together." 

He took a step back, disengaging from her grasp. "I guess I should have been clearer," he began. "I-I'm in love with P. . .this other woman. It's. . .It's just a bit. . .complicated," he repeated.

"Oh." Her disappointment was obvious. "Well," she said, giving him a cheerful grin even he knew was false. "I guess you can give me a call if your complicated relationship ever blows up in your face." She laughed nervously. "See, I can make bomb jokes, too."

Walter winced, recalling the inappropriate texts he had sent her the day after their date. He had been such an idiot, for sending those lame messages. . .and for agreeing to go out with her in the place. He'd been in love with Paige, even though he'd been unwilling to admit it at the time. 

He became aware they were just staring at each other, wasting time he didn't have. "Uh, Linda, um. . . I'm sorry, I need to go now. We have a mission and. . ."

"Oh, okay," she said. "I guess I'll be going then. Goodbye, Walter." She took a step back. "And good luck." Waving her hand, she added, "with your mission. . .and your relationship."

"Thanks. You, too," he returned awkwardly. He chewed on his lip as he watched her walk out of the building.

"What did she want?"

For the second time that morning, he turned around at the sound of Paige's voice. "Uh, she. . .she wanted to give me another chance. I told her I wasn't interested."

"But are you?" 

"What?" He didn't like the look in her eyes. He wasn't sure what it meant, but he was sure it wasn't good. "Interested? No, of course not. Why would you. . ."

"Even think that?" She crossed her arms. "Maybe because you went out with her in the first place. And I know you asked her for a second date."

Okay, so she was jealous, and more than a little pissed at him. Which was illogical because he certainly hadn't invited Linda to visit him at his place of work. "You're the one who wanted me to be more social."

"I didn't mean date other women."

"How was I supposed to know that? You told me to be more social but then you didn't tell me how. You just threw me to the wolves. . .or in my case, to the coyotes." He grinned stupidly at her, hoping to lessen her exasperation. It didn't work as she continued to glare at him. 

"So this is all my fault?" She moved closer. "You're the genius with a 197 IQ. I thought you could figure out how to do anything."

"If I hadn't figured it out in thirty-two years, why would you think I could in a matter of weeks?" He stared at the floor. "I've had trouble with emotions all my life. Burying them made life easier. It doesn't hurt so much if I can't feel in the first place."

"Oh, God, Walter. . ." She placed her hands on his shoulders before running them up the sides of his neck and into his hair. Closing his eyes, he let himself yield to her touch. It wasn't until moments like this he realized how much he craved it. He felt her breath on his lips as she moved closer. A shiver of anticipation ran up his spine. 

"Dammit, O'Brien!" Cabe's shout from across the garage brought him back to his senses. "Plane leaves in little over an hour," the Homeland agent stated. "We need to head out now." 

"We. . .We'd better go," he mumbled as she withdrew from him. He felt the loss immediately, it was almost painful. 

"You have to stop doing that," she said as they walked over to their desks to gather up their gear.

"Stop doing what?" He frowned. She was the one who had initiated contact, if that's what she meant.

"Irritating the hell out of me, then disarming me by saying something either sweet or sad or. . .just so. . ." Her voice trailed off. 

"Oh. I don't mean to. . ."

"I know. That's what makes it all the more effective." 

"Well, I do like to be efficient." Failing miserably to suppress a grin, he took her hand on their way out the door as Toby was telling everyone to get their booties to Djibouti.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More "Djibouti Call" borrowing.

"I don't like it."

Walter sat in a jeep outside a tailor's shop in Djibouti City where Tim and Paige were being outfitted with clothing so they could pose as a wealthy couple seeking to purchase a stolen antiquity.

"Doesn't matter if you like it or not," said Toby from the back seat where he and the mechanic were sitting. "This is Tim's mission. And we need Paige to pose as his wife."

"Happy could. . ."

"Happy could insult Copley and blow the whole operation." The shrink turned to the woman sitting beside him. "No offense, honey bear kitten pie."

"None taken," she said before giving him a look even Walter was afraid of. "Call me that again, though, stupid dummy moron jerk. . ."

"Sorry, sorry." Toby raised his hands, pretending to ward her off. 

His hands curled in fists, Walter stared out the window at the shop. "He lied to us, brought us here on false pretenses, Cabe is being tortured because of him. . .and now I'm just supposed to trust him with another member of my team?"

The psychiatrist narrowed his eyes. "Are you worried because she's a member of the team or because she's a little more important to you than that?"

Dammit. He should have known Toby would bring up the relationship between him and Paige. At least the other man had no idea of how fragile it had become over the past few days. 

"You don't like the idea of her pretending to be his wife, do you?" Again, the shrink hit the nail on the head. "It's just make-believe, 197, no one is really getting married."

"I know that," Walter snapped. "It-It's not about that. I don't trust him."

"And you especially don't trust him with Paige."

"Just shut up, Doc," Happy intervened. "None of us trust Tim. Except for you. You got some kind of man crush or something?"

Walter tuned out as the two of them started to bicker. Several minutes later, the vehicle doors opened, and he opened his eyes to see Paige climbing inside to sit next to him. "That's supposed to keep you safe?" he asked, scanning the thin white jacket she was wearing. 

"Well, not completely," she conceded as the jeep pulled out into traffic. "It's just a precaution."

"I don't like this." He stared at the back of Tim's head as the trainee drove through the city. "I still think I should pretend to be Mr Sampson. He's too emotionally involved," he said, nodding toward the intern. "He's seeking revenge for his partner's death, that should exclude. . ."

"Walter. . ." Paige grabbed his hand, cutting him off. "It's his mission."

"But you always tell me to back off when I can't deal with emotional situations. Why should he be any different?"

"You do know I can hear everything you're saying, right?" Tim threw a glance over his shoulder. "You haven't been trained like I have. My feelings about Jennings being killed are secondary to completing this mission. Paige and I are posing as the Sampsons and if the rest of you are half the geniuses I've heard you are, we'll be able to put a bad guy out of business _and_ rescue Cabe. Copy that?"

"Copy that," Walter muttered as he turned to stare out the window.

_____

"Okay, everyone, this is our stop." The jeep came to a halt about a half mile from Copley's compound. Tim jumped out of the driver's seat as Happy, Toby, and Sly piled out of the vehicle. Paige looked at Walter when he squeezed her hand.

"You'll. . .You be careful, okay?" She could see the worry etched on his face, and the absolute terror lurking in his dark brown eyes. Maybe he'd been right, that taking their relationship beyond being professional colleagues would change the dynamic of the team. She'd never seen him this anxious about her taking part in a case before.

"I'll be fine," she said as she tried to smile reassuringly at him. "I just have to pretend to be a rich wife who's interested in antiquities . You're the one who is going to be hanging from the bottom of a jeep. You need to be careful."

"I will." He hopped out of the vehicle, then helped her climb down. 

"I don't like this either." Sylvester came to stand beside her as she watched as Walter and Toby were strapped to the bottom of the jeep by Tim and Happy. "It's wildly upsetting."

"It's the only way we can sneak them into the compound," she explained. "They'll be okay."

"I don't mean that," said Sly, waving his hand toward the vehicle. "Although I think they're crazy." He glanced around anxiously. "I'm talking about the m-o-n-k-e-y-s."

"Sly, they're just monkeys," she laughed, patting his arm. "Cute adorable little monkeys."

"Filthy disease ridden little monkeys." She felt him shudder in revulsion.

"You and Happy will be in and out so fast, you won't even have time to see one."

"I hope you're right." The human calculator wiped the sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief.

"I am. You'll see." 

"Okay, Smart and Smart Ass have been secured," announced Happy as she and Tim crawled out from under the jeep. She dusted off her hands. "Come on, Sly."

Paige gave him a side hug, then watched as he and the mechanic took off on foot toward the compound. She got in the front passenger seat while Tim slid in behind the wheel. 

"So, how do you stay sane working with these guys," he asked as they drove along the bumpy dirt road.

"They're not so bad," she said defensively. "It's not that much different than dealing with my son."

"Oh, yeah, Cabe was telling me about him. Sounds like a great kid."

"He is." Her mind drifted to nearly fifteen hours earlier, and how she hadn't even known she'd be leaving for Africa when she kissed Ralph goodbye before sending him off to school. She hated being so far away from him. And because of the time difference, she hadn't had a chance to call him before they left the base. 

"Seems like you have to do a lot of hand holding," Tim remarked, interrupting her concern over her son.

"Um, yeah. They might be geniuses, but they're just as insecure as the rest of us." 

"Even Walter? He's one of the smartest people alive." The trainee sounded incredulous.

"Especially Walter. He may have a high IQ but his EQ. . . Well, it's improved a lot since I've met him, but it still needs a lot of work."

Tim opened his mouth as if he was going to ask another question when the jeep hit a deep rut. Paige winced, thinking of the two men clinging to the undercarriage. "Hang on," he said, slowing down. "We're here." He cut the engine and they both got out of the vehicle.

Taking a deep breath, Paige forced herself not to glance at the bottom of the jeep. Oh, God, let them be all right, she prayed as several of Copley's men approached them.

_____

A broken taser and a broken bowl later, Walter and Toby were crouched down behind some barrels, staring at the lone man guarding the shed where Cabe was being held.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" asked Walter. 

"The thorns are slathered in anesthetic, the berries will weight them down so they'll travel faster, and the rolled up spec is gonna work like a perfect blowgun." Toby grinned. "So, no, I have no idea if this is going to work."

Walter was about to test their makeshift weapon when Paige's voice came over his com. "Oh, God. It's just. . .this piece is beautiful," she stated loudly, obviously trying to buy more time for Happy and Sly to repair the bowl the human calculator had dropped. 

With a smile, he aimed and blew the thorn into the guard's neck. "He thinks it's an insect," whispered Toby gleefully. "Hit him again."

As he was about to do just that, he heard Copley ask, "So, tell me, where did you find this beautiful woman?" 

Tim chuckled in his ear. "We met in Paris. At a café. She was drinking a latte and she smiled at me, unaware that the foam remained right over her lip. She was absolutely captivating. There's nothing more stunning than seeing perfection with a slight imperfection. It makes the perfection stand out even more."

"Well, this is interesting," Toby smirked, waggling his eyebrows.

"Quiet." Taking several deep breaths, Walter tried to calm the storm raging inside him. He had to trust her. Had to believe she wouldn't fall for the trainee's blatant flattery. Bringing the paper tube to his lips, he blew out another thorn.

"Look, he's groggy." The shrink started to rise up out of his crouch. "Oh, shit, Mongo's coming this way. Hit him again!"

Picturing in his mind the guard was Tim, three more thorns reached their target in rapid succession. "Okay, he's definitely going down," said Toby as the guard staggered around the small courtyard. However, several minutes passed and the man was still on his unsteady feet.

"Plan B," Walter suggested. "We run past him and get to Cabe." 

"Is there a Plan C?" asked Toby. "Because Plan B sucks."

"Do you have a better idea?" The shrink shook his head. "Then we'll go with mine." Not waiting for a response, Walter ran out from behind the barrels, making a beeline for the shed.

_____

"Dammit, Walter." A bruised and battered Cabe put out his arm, stopping the genius from running back to the compound.

"Copley's going to kill her!" Walter fought to free himself, but the Homeland agent kept him in check.

"Tim will get her out of there. You just have to trust him."

"I don't trust him. He's the reason she's in danger." Walter quit struggling, frustrated by the fact he couldn't escape the other man's grasp and that the agent was right.

"Just get your ass in the jeep so we'll be ready to move out," said the older man as he released his hold. Tim's voice came over their coms, urging Paige to run. Less than a minute later, they emerged from the building, heading straight toward the vehicle.

Walter tossed himself in the front seat as Toby and Sylvester clambered into the back. A bullet struck the side of the jeep and they all ducked. Raising his head, he saw Paige's protective jacket was gone.

"Paige!" Her name tore itself out of his throat as he watched helplessly as Copley aimed his pistol at her. Tim tossed his jacket on her back seconds before the bullet hit her right shoulder. It struck with enough force that she pitched forward, nearly falling on her face. The Homeland trainee caught her, then dragged her inside the waiting jeep.

Terror bubbled up inside him. "Paige!" He twisted in his seat as Cabe floored the vehicle, peeling out in a cloud of dust as the antiquities smuggler and his cohorts kept firing at them. "Paige, are you okay!"

Toby pressed his fingers against her throat as she gasped for air. "She's going into shock, we need to get her back to the base, pronto."

"It's not gonna be that easy." Cabe pointed at the windshield. "Look, on that ridge ahead!" Walter glanced over his shoulder to see a pickup filled with men heading toward them. "They got automatic weapons."

Dammit. He turned his attention back to the woman lying across Sylvester's and Tim's laps, reaching out to touch her shoulder. They only had one gun and an indeterminate amount of ammunition against five men with AK-47s. Something caught the corner of his eye as the jeep sped down the dirt road.

"Put it in reverse," he barked at Cabe.

"No," said the Homeland agent. "Then we'd be headed back to Copley!"

"I have an idea," Walter announced impatiently. "We just passed the compound's gas tank." The pickup was heading straight toward them, spraying the road ahead of them with gunfire.

Cabe slammed on the brakes, shoved the gear stick into reverse, and started driving backwards. "Look, I know what you're thinking, O'Brien, but a bullet's not gonna cause an explosion," he said, his head faced in the direction they were traveling.

"That's why we need the flare gun. Toby."

The psychiatrist dove under the seat and Walter could hear him rummaging around. "Here you go." He handed the gun to Sly, who grasped it with his thumb and index finger before passing it on to Walter.

"Guys, Paige is in bad shape," said the human calculator, glancing down to where the liaison was lying on his legs. "I think she fainted."

Walter took his eyes off his target for a second to glance at Paige's ashen face. Taking a deep breath, he re-aimed the flare, knowing he had only one chance to save her.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the last of the "Djibouti Call" ‘borrowing'. There'll be some bit and pieces of "Twist & Shout" as well. And finally - the answer to is she or isn't she? I think maybe a few of you kinda sorta want to know. I think maybe I've tortured you long enough.
> 
> PS: Happy Scorpion Season 3 Premiere Day!

Walter paced outside the infirmary where Paige and Cabe were getting checked out by the base's medical personnel. "It's just some bruising and a couple of cuts," said Toby. "They're both going to be okay."

Stopping in front of the shrink who was sitting in a chair next to Happy, Walter muttered as he glared across the hall at Tim, "No thanks to him." 

"That's it." Toby got to his feet and grabbed Walter's shoulder, dragging him away from the others. "Paige could be dead if not for Tim," he said, coming to a halt once they were out of earshot. "He risked his life by giving her his jacket."

"So that makes him the big hero?" Walter shook off the psychiatrist's hand. "She shouldn't have been there in the first place. You heard him over the com. He almost blew the whole op by losing his temper when Copley goaded him about his partner. He deliberately put Paige in danger."

"Listen, buddy, I know you love her," Toby said. "But you can't protect her every second of every day. You have to step back and let her live her life and make her own decisions, and yes," he continued as Walter opened his mouth to protest, "you're not going to like some of them. You can't keep smothering her. You're going to snuff out any feelings she has for you if you don't give her some breathing room."

"I. . .I. . ." Sagging back against the wall, he pounded his fists on it in frustration. "I. . .I can't lose her."

"Well, you're going to if you don't stop pouting like a baby. . ."

"I am not pouting."

"Yes, you are." Toby sighed. "I get it. You're threatened because Tim shows up with Channing Tatum's body and Mitt Romney's hair and you think you can't compete with a guy like that. Well, guess what?" he said, "you're no slouch in the looks department yourself and Paige loves you for more than your curly hair and dark brown eyes."

"You're wrong." Walter's attention was distracted as the infirmary door was opened and Cabe walked out. Mr Perfect Intern hurried over to the older man.

"Oh, you think so?" The shrink indicated the two Homeland agents. "If you're not worried about Paige falling for his charms, maybe you're worried Cabe's found himself a new macho son figure he'll like better than you."

"That's preposterous. We've done here," Walter stated as he pushed himself off the wall. "I'm going to check on Paige." 

Toby shook his head as the genius stalked down the hallway. "Man, he is messed up," he said before going back to sit next to Happy again.

_____

Walter put his arm around Paige's waist to steady her as a plane hit a pocket of turbulence. She had fallen asleep almost as soon as they had taken off from base in Djibouti, her head lying on his shoulder. He couldn't rest, couldn't shut off his mind as the image of her getting shot replayed over and over again.

He could have lost her because he had let himself be persuaded into trusting someone he barely knew. Someone who had turned out to be a lying, untrustworthy prick. 

Anger boiled up inside him as he glared at Tim, who sat on the other side of the transport. The other man must have felt his scrutiny because the intern looked over at him with an expression Walter couldn't even begin to read. 

"Ugh." Sitting on Walter's other side, Cabe ran his hand over his face as he woke up. "Did anyone get the license of the truck that ran me over?" he asked before groaning as he shifted in his seat.

"Yeah, it was Mack One Two Punch," said Toby. He and Happy were cuddled up between Tim and Sylvester.  
.  
"Very funny, Doc," growled the Homeland agent. "Seriously, I'm getting too old for this shit." He glanced down at his watch. "Where the hell are we anyway?"

"By my calculations, somewhere over Texas," Sylvester declared.

"I was stationed in Corpus Christi for six months," Tim volunteered.

Walter tightened his hold on Paige as the former SEAL and Cabe swapped stories of different military bases where they'd been stationed. She moved restlessly against him, unconsciously wincing when she moved her right arm. The doctor at the base had been less than helpful, giving her a topical analgesic for the pain and telling her to keep her shoulder mobile so it wouldn't freeze up.

He knew deep down he was responsible for their injuries, both Paige's and Cabe's. Allowing Tim to be added to the team had been a mistake, he changed their whole dynamic. But on the bright side, they would only have to put up with the asshole for a few weeks until he was either reassigned or reinstated. 

Walter couldn't wait.

_____

A few hours after the team had returned to the garage, Walter rose out of his desk chair. Abandoning the report he hadn't been working on anyway, he walked toward Paige's desk, going over his plan. It was nearly three in the afternoon, and he intended to offer to go pick Ralph up from school, hoping she would want to come with him. If she did, he would take them both out to dinner, then he anticipated she would ask him to stay at her place and even he knew they couldn't do anything because of her injury, he. . .

A solid shape abruptly interrupted his thoughts and blocked his progress. Looking up, Walter frowned. Tim. Standing there with a big dumb grin on his big dumb face.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot," the trainee began. "Why don't we go grab a meal together later? Get to know each other better?"

"You lied to us. I don't like being lied to." Walter glared at the former SEAL. "Did you lie to Cabe too? Rook him into going along with your mission?"

"The government assigned the mission." The friendly smile disappeared. "And Cabe knew what he was getting into and he said nothing but yes."

"So why keep it secret from the rest of us?" No doubt the lying jerk had an excuse for that as well.

"Because he knew we might take fire," Tim explained. "Our orders were shoot to kill. He knows that's not your thing. He was trying to protect you."

Walter took a deep breath. Dammit, that sounded exactly like something Cabe would do. Still, he didn't like being kept in the dark, especially when it wasn't just him personally at risk, but the rest of his team as well.

"Fine, you didn't lie. So. . ." He tried to go around the intern but Tim stood his ground.

"Now that we've settled that," the trainee said as his stupid grin returned, "so, dinner later?"

"Sorry, I have other plans." And even if his plans with Paige fell through, he still didn't want to go anywhere with the big dumb jock.

"Oh, okay, maybe some other time then, Boss." With that, Tim turned away, going back over to speak with Cabe.

"I'm not your boss because you're not part of the team," Walter mumbled under his breath before continuing on his way to Paige's desk.

_____

A week later, Paige was going through her apartment as she made a list of items she needed to buy on her next shopping trip. Walter had not stayed over the night before, a first since they had returned from Djibouti. A slot at the UCLA lab had opened up for the previous evening and she had persuaded him to go. He'd been reluctant but she'd been insistent, explaining she didn't want him to give up the things he enjoyed for her sake. And to be honest, it had been kind of relief when he had finally agreed. His constant hovering because of her injury had been driving her nuts.

Walking into the bathroom, she opened the doors to the storage area under the sink. Rolls of toilet paper, bottles of shampoo and conditioner, nearly full packages of pads and tampons. . . Frowning, she tried to recall the last time she had used either of the last two items.

_Oh, God_. Hurrying out of the room, she rushed out to the calendar in her kitchen and took it down off the wall. Flipping from the current month of March, past February, and back to January, she panicked as she all saw were the appointments and special events she had written down. A small ‘x' was noted on January 12th. 

Paige plopped down in the nearest chair. _Oh, God_. Her last period had been two weeks before she and Walter had been held as hostages, two weeks before they had. . .

But. . .But. . .she was on birth control pills, remembering the embarrassing scene when her purse had been searched and the packet had spilled out. Closing her eyes, she groaned, also recalling she and Walter hadn't received their belongings back until nearly a week after they'd been rescued. 

Not only was it not impossible, it was entirely possible. She pressed her hand to her stomach. _Oh, God_. 

"Ralph, we need to go." She went in search of her son, whom she found in his bedroom, tying his shoes.

"It's not time," he replied, not looking up from his task.

"I know," she said, hating to upset his routine. "I need to stop and pick up something on the way to the garage." When he opened his mouth to protest, she added, "You can spend the extra time with Walter."

"Okay," the boy genius readily agreed. "I want to show him the program I'm working on for my coding class."

"Great." Snatching up her coat, purse, and Ralph's backpack, she herded him out the door.

Fifteen minutes later, Paige dashed into the nearest pharmacy. Grabbing the first test she recognized, she bounced from foot to foot as the clerk rang her up.

The garish pink package firmly stashed in her purse, she and Ralph walked into the garage. And into chaos. Toby, Sylvester, and Tim were crowded around the Proton Arnold game; the shrink and human calculator noisily cheering on the intern. Happy was at her workstation, welding on a piece of metal, ignoring the commotion.

"Hey, Walter." Ralph ignored the other men and ran over to the genius's desk. "Want to check out my coding project?"

"Hey, Ralph." Walter's face broke out into a smile as her son opened his laptop. "Sure, buddy, let's have a look."

Her heart did a little flip as she watched the two of them interact over Ralph's assignment. Walter was more of a father to her son than Drew had ever been. She knew he'd do anything to protect him. . .and her. She had to bite her lip as her eyes grew damp.

A loud whoop filled the garage. Looking up, she saw Toby and Sly dancing around excitedly. Wiping away a tear, she asked Walter, "What's going on?"

"A statistical improbability," came the terse reply. Paige had to stifle a hysterical laugh, wondering what he would make of the statistical improbability they were facing.

"Oh, don't mind him," said Toby as the intern crushed another level. "Tim is going to beat his high score. He's just feeling intimidated."

"I am not." Walter glanced up from Ralph's computer for a moment to glare at the shrink.

"He still has all his lives left." Sylvester was hopping around like a big kid.

"You can't spell ‘intimidation' without ‘Tim'," Toby declared. "The neuro-transmission speed between his brain and fingertips is amazing."

Paige rolled her eyes as she saw the frown of displeasure on Walter's face. _Boys_. 

Deciding the commotion over the game was the perfect distraction, Paige slipped away into the bathroom. Digging the test out of her purse, she ripped it open, then read the instructions. It had been nearly twelve years since she'd had last used one and they seemed more sophisticated than she remembered.

Once she had peed on the stick (that part hadn't changed), she waited anxiously, checking her watch as the seconds ticked by. Finally, the required three minutes passed, and with a hand she noticed was shaking, Paige picked up the test.

It was positive.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More bits from "Twist & Shout".

_It was positive._

Oh, God, she was pregnant. Eight weeks along, since she knew the exact day she had conceived. Looking back, she realized all the signs had been glaringly obvious; the vomiting, the increased salty sweet cravings, the tenderness in her breasts, tiredness, moodiness. . . Toby was right. She'd been in denial. 

She was going to be a mother again, Paige thought as she touched her abdomen. And Walter. . . Walter was going to be a father. Panic filled her as she wondered how he would take the news. He was such a good father figure for Ralph, but a child of his own. . .? It was a topic they had never discussed. 

"Hey, Dineen, other people have to pee too, you know." The sound of Happy's ticked off voice as the mechanic pounded on the door shook Paige out of her shock. Glancing at the test in her other hand, noting it still indicated she was pregnant, she tossed it into the wastebasket. She threw the box away as well, crumpling up pieces of toilet paper to hide both items.

"‘Bout time," the other woman grumbled as they passed in the doorway. "Though I was going to have to tie a knot in it." She shut the door in Paige's face.

Paige walked out into the main area of the garage and saw Walter and Ralph were still looking at the coding program. A nearly deafening shout filled the room.

"He did it!" Toby slapped Tim on the back. "Everyone behold Timothy Armstrong, the new Proton Arnold record holder." He bowed in an exaggerated manner in the intern's direction.

Glancing away from the trio at the video, Paige noticed the sour look on Walter's face. So much for her plan to pull him aside to tell him of his impending fatherhood. With a sigh, she realized it wasn't something she could just blurt out anyway. She was going to have to break the news to him gently.

"The entire Library of Congress in 5.9 seconds?. That's incredible, Ralph," Walter said, returning his attention back to the boy's computer. "And the final presentation is today?" 

Ralph nodded. "Yep. At three." 

"You're going to ace it." Walter held his hand in the air and the youngster slapped him a high five. Looking up, he saw Paige approaching them, an odd expression on her face. 

"Carpool's going to be here any second, Ralph," she said before he could ask her if she was okay. "Let's get your stuff together."

Picking up the boy genius's backpack, Walter held it open so he could cram his laptop in it. A horn sounded outside, signaling that his ride to school had indeed arrived.

After a kiss from his mother, the boy ran for the door. Cabe had to step aside as Ralph barreled past him. Another man followed the agent into the building. "This is John Pandova," announced Gallo. "He'd like to retain our services for a case of utmost importance."

_____

Paige sighed in exasperation as she gripped the phone. "I'm sorry, Ralph. A case came up. . . I know, I wish I could be there, too." A shadow passed over her desk and she glanced up to see Walter standing across from her. "I have to go, honey. I have to arrange for the sitter to come stay with you tonight. Love you sweetheart." Hanging up the phone, she turned her full attention to the man in front of her.

"I don't think you should go," he said at the same time she said, "I don't think I should go." "Wait, what?" they both said in unison.

"You don't want to go?" Walter asked in a tone filled with what she thought sounded like relief.

"Ralph has his presentation today," she replied, although that wasn't her only reason for wanting to remain at the garage. Vietnam wasn't exactly on her list of places to visit while pregnant. "Why do you think I shouldn't go?"

Walter heard the challenge in her voice and knew he couldn't tell her the real reason he wanted her to stay behind. "Uh, because of Ralph's presentation, like you said," he answered. "I know it's important to him. . .and you."

"I really would like to stay. . ."

"You're coming," Cabe stated as he walked up to stand beside Walter. "We're going to be dealing with possibly uncooperative if not downright hostile local contractors. I can't contain this bunch on my own. I'm going to need your help."

"But. . ." Walter started to argue, but a glare from the other man closed his mouth. "Okay." He glanced at Paige. "Sorry."

"It's okay." She knew Cabe had a point. It was her job after all. 

"Sylvester can stay with Ralph and go to his class thing," the agent suggested. "There's not a lot of math involved, and if something does come up, Walter can easily handle it."

"That would work," she agreed. "If that's all right with you, Sly." She turned to smile at the human calculator.

"More than all right." He pushed up his glasses. "I admit I was not looking forward to going to another country full of nasty little monkeys."

Paige laughed as she picked up her phone. "I'll let Ralph know about the change of plans."

______

Walter glanced up from scanning a pair of dog tags to where Paige was standing, talking on the phone again to her son. The plane hit some turbulence and she stumbled, catching herself before she fell. His heart leapt into his throat as he wished she were safely back in Los Angeles, especially since Sly had reported the area they were heading to was experiencing stormy weather.

"Are you ready for your presentation?" she shouted over the noise of the engine. Ralph must have answered yes, because he saw her smile. Everything violently lurched again, and he watched in horror as she tumbled sideways. 

Dropping the scanning device, he tried to reach her before she hit her head on the wall of the transport. But before he could, Tim wrapped his arms around her, breaking her fall just inches away from the hard metal interior. 

"Everyone okay?" asked Cabe as the plane steadied again. "I think we should all sit down and buckle in."

Paige, her face still pale and still in Tim's embrace, lifted her cell back to her ear. "Okay, honey, I need to go. I love you. Good luck."

Walter put his hand on her shoulder, his eyes angrily locking with the intern's. Tim immediately let go of the liaison, stepping back as Walter helped Paige into the nearest seat. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm fine. I just want to get this over with."

"Hey, help me secure this equipment," Happy said, tapping him on the back before he could reply.

"Sure." He reluctantly turned around as the plane shuddered once again.

"It's getting a little bumpy," declared Toby, hanging onto his hat.

"You think this is bumpy, wait until you drive down a road in the Vietnamese jungle." Cabe chuckled. "This doesn't even compare."

Once the gear was safely stashed, Walter went to sit down. To his dismay, Cabe had taken the seat next to Paige, who was sitting at the end of the row. The only open spot was next to Tim. He tossed himself into the seat and buckled himself in.

"Hey. I heard what Toby said earlier, and it's just a video game." Walter rolled his eyes. Great, not only was he stuck sitting next to the jerk, now Mr Perfect wanted to discuss the damn video game. "I'm not trying to compete with you," Tim leaned in closer, brushing his shoulder against Walter's. He flinched away at the unexpected contact, inching himself to the other side of his seat.

"I'd be crazy to even try to compete," the trainee continued. "I've read your file. You're pretty gonzo. I like that in a guy."

"Just doing my job," Walter mumbled, glancing over at Paige. The color had returned to her cheeks, although she still had the strange expression on her face he'd noticed earlier. 

"Is that how you got that scar?" Tim drew a line with his finger across his own lips and down his chin. "On a case?"

"No." Walter suppressed the urge to copy the other man's gesture. He had never told anyone how he had acquired the scar, and the asshole sitting next to him certainly would not be the first person to hear the story. 

"Huh," Tim grunted before adding, "Perfection with a slight imperfection." He nodded in Paige's direction. "Noticed she's got one in practically the same place. Did she get hers on a case?"

"No." Closing his eyes, Walter relived the nightmare of helplessly watching the knife cut her, the blood dripping down her neck as she was threatened with rape. Dragging in ragged breath, he said, "It wasn't a case."

"Uh, all right. . ." Before Tim could say anything the else, the pilot's voice came over the intercom, informing them they were approaching Da Nang and to prepare for landing.

______

Paige stood in the middle of a flapping tent in the middle of the Vietnamese jungle in the middle of a violent storm. But all of her attention was focused on the man standing across from her, speaking to her son.

"Ralph, you need to link your software program to the satellite," Walter shouted over the roaring of the wind. "Now, if it can transfer the Library of Congress in 5.9 seconds, then it can get us satellite data in real time."

"I don't think that's a good idea." She frowned when she heard the dejection in Ralph's voice. "My professor failed me." Oh, God, he had immersed himself into that project for weeks. All that effort and he had flunked? Paige felt as disappointed as her son sounded. 

"Who cares?" Walter's anger tinged tone sliced through her thoughts. "Your professor is a human, you are a genius. Now, I have faith in your mind, but if you don't. . .then there's no point in you having your ability. Ralph?" 

She didn't even try to stop the smile that spread over her face. Any doubts she'd had harbored about Walter becoming a father were instantly dispelled. He already _was_ a father. And a damn good one. Placing her hand against her belly for a moment, she knew everything was going to be all right.

"I can do it." The 180 degree change in her son's attitude showed in his response. "It'll just take a minute."

"Good." Walter glanced up from the map he'd been holding down to see Paige grinning at him, the odd look in her eyes once again. Wishing he had time to ask her what she was thinking, he reached out to her. "Come on," he said, grasping her hand. "We need to steal some trucks."

_____

"I gotta hit the head," Toby declared as the team trooped back inside the garage after another successful yet harrowing mission. Happy rolled her eyes at him as he made his way to the ground floor bathroom.

Unzipping his fly, his eye caught the corner of a very pink box peeking out from under what seemed like an excessive amount of wadded up tissue. Once he finished with his business, he pulled the box from the wastebasket before nearly dropping the pregnancy test kit like it burnt his fingers. Oh, shit. . .

Toby frantically poked around in the trash, finally grasping the stick resting on the bottom. Two bright pink lines stared back at him, indicating a positive result. Double shit. There were only two women on the team. A fifty-fifty chance he or Walter were about to become a daddy and the odds were certainly not favorable to either one of them. It was a bet even he would walk away from. 

Of course, he loved Happy and wanted to marry her and have a couple of little Quintuses, but that was all in the future. . .someday. Not now. But then again, if it was Walter and Paige with the bun in the oven, a little O'Brien could certainly complicate an already strained relationship. 

Hoping against hope a random stranger had somehow left the test in the garbage, he exited the bathroom, stick in hand, walking out into the empty floor space in the midst of their workstations. His stomach twisted a little as he held the pregnancy test up into the air for everyone to see.

"Now, which of you lovely ladies does this belong to?"


	19. Chapter 19

_His stomach twisted a little as he held the pregnancy test up into the air for everyone to see. "Now, which of you lovely ladies does this belong to?_

Paige jumped out of her chair and snatched the test out of his hand. "And we have a winner," Toby announced, breathing a sigh of relief. 

He strolled toward Happy, catching out of the corner of his eye a wild-eyed Paige spinning around to face Walter, who had risen to his feet. Past an open-mouthed Sylvester, a stunned Tim, and a smiling Cabe. Feeling much better than he had been a few moments earlier, and a little proud of himself for silencing the rest of the team, he. . .

"Oof!" Happy's small but powerful fist slammed into his gut, knocking the wind out him as he doubled over. "What was that for?" he gasped when he could breath again.

"You jackass," the mechanic snarled. "You could have been a little more discreet." 

The shrink glanced up at her face and realized he was in serious trouble, although he wondered why she was so pissed at him.

"What if that had been mine?" she asked. "Is this how you would have wanted to find out?"

Shit, she had a valid point. "No," he mumbled, duly chastised. 

Across the room, Walter walked up to Paige, holding out his left hand. She placed the test in his palm, noticing he was pressing his lips together tightly as if he was trying to keep his emotions in check. 

"This isn't how I wanted you to find out," she stated.

His eyes flicked over the stick, then a grin grew on his face. "I, uh. . . I kind of already knew." 

Paige stared at him in amazement. "How? I just figured it out this morning."

"Um, something Cabe said, the morning after our rooftop dinner, when you, ah, threw up," he explained. 

"Oh." Back when she'd been in denial and had blamed his fish for her sickness. "You're not going to ask if it's yours?"

"I know it's mine. . .ours," he replied, and she had to smile at his arrogance. He appeared to be bursting with a mixture of happiness and pride before his demeanor sobered. "Why would you ask that?"

"Because Drew did when I told him I was pregnant with Ralph."

"Drew's an asshole."

"Walter!" She had to bite her lip so she wouldn't laugh at his assessment of her ex.

"Sorry, but he is." He set the test on his desk before taking a step toward her. "I've been so worried. . . You never said anything. . . I thought, uh, maybe you'd. . .um, miscarried. . .or. . ." His gaze shifted to stare at the floor as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I didn't even realize until today," she said, understanding what he meant. "Does this mean you're okay with. . .?"

"Yes." He lifted his head back up to stare into her eyes. "But. . . I-It's your choice," he added. "I know this wasn't planned or something we ever discussed. . ."

"I want this baby," she replied, her eyes shimmering. "I was afraid you wouldn't."

"I do." He moved closer, placing his left hand on her abdomen. "B-But I'm scared."

She covered his hand with hers. "Me, too."

"I don't know if being a f-father is something I'm even capable of."

"You already are a father," she reassured him. "You're more of a father to Ralph than Drew ever was."

"Mom?"

Oh, God, Ralph. He must have been dropped off from aftercare. She turned to see her son walking up behind her, a concerned expression on his young face.

"Toby said you and Walter have something to tell me," he announced in a voice filled with worry.

"I'm going to kill him," she muttered, throwing a glance at Walter.

"Not if I kill him first." The genius flexed his fists.

Paige knelt down to her son's level before giving him a hug. Pulling back, she then said, "Ralph, honey. . . What do you think about having a little brother or sister?"

The boy genius's gaze shifted from his mother to his mentor. "You're having a baby?"

"Yes," she nodded, "I just found out today." Rising, she clutched Walter's arm as Ralph processed the information.

He shrugged. "I guess it would be okay," he said before wrinkling his nose. "I won't have to change diapers, will I?"

A strangled sound drew Paige's attention, and she had to hold back her laughter at the look of horror on Walter's face. "No, not if you don't want to," she told her son. "But, you don't have a choice," she said to the man standing beside her. "They don't come out potty trained, you know. It's pretty messy for the first few years. Sure you still want to do this?"

Walter stared at her for a few moments before his mouth curled up into a grin. "Yes."

"Does this mean we're a family now?" asked Ralph.

"We've always been a family, buddy," Walter replied. "Ever since the day you and your mom joined Team Scorpion."

"September 22nd, 2014."

"That's right." 

Paige watched as the two most important men in her life fist bumped. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she gathered both of them into her arms.

_____

Toby sidled up beside Tim, who stood watching Walter, Paige, and Ralph; his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest. "You never stood a chance with him," he remarked.

The intern glanced sharply at the shrink before returning his gaze to the trio. "I don't know what you mean."

A huge grin graced Toby's face. "I'm a world class profiler," he announced smugly. "Plus I'm not blind. I've seen how you've looked at him. He's the reason you wanted to join Team Scorpion in the first place, isn't he?" 

"One of them," Tim conceded grudgingly.

The shrink lifted his chin in the genius's direction. "Walter O'Brien was destined to love only once in his life. . .and she's it.

"You'd never know but before he met her," the psychiatrist continued, watching Walter, who was smiling as he, Paige, and Ralph conversed, "but he was practically a robot. No emotions, no empathy. . . He doesn't seem to have much of either even now. But to those of us who've known him longer, it's like night and day since she came into his life."

The Homeland trainee rubbed his chin before speaking. "I guess I knew it was a long shot," he finally said, releasing a resigned breath. "Can't blame a guy for trying though," he added, smiling cheerfully before becoming serious. "You won't say anything to anyone about this?"

"Nope," replied Toby, slapping Tim on the back. He, of course, saw through the other man's false bravado. If he could lay odds on it, he'd say the ex-SEAL was more heartbroken than he'd ever admit. For someone who had little use for emotions, Walter O'Brien inspired a great many of them in the people who crossed his path.

_____

"Time to get up." Paige yawned as she reached over to shut off the alarm. "I have to run over to my place this morning," she said as she tried to slip out from under a warm and sleepy Walter.

"Mm, why?" he asked as he drowsily nuzzled her neck. For someone who disliked physical contact, he certainly didn't have a problem with it when he was unconscious. Since they had started regularly sharing a bed in the past month, she had awakened with him wrapped around her like a python more often than not.

"Ralph wants to wear his Cal Tech shirt," she replied, kissing him on the nose. "The school is having a spirit week and evidently today is college day. He didn't tell me until he was going to bed last night."

"Spirit week? What's that, another contrived exercise to stir up enthusiasm for some kind athletic endeavor?" He snuggled even closer. 

"Walter, I have to get up." Paige would have loved nothing more than to stay, but. . . "I have to help Ralph get ready for school."

"Okay," he said, rubbing his face before placing his hand on her belly. "Uh. . .I've been thinking. . .and we probably should , um, maybe make a decision about where we want to live."

Paige sat up. "What do you mean, decide where to live?"

"I mean, you and Ralph have stuff here, and I have stuff at your place, and it's getting confusing and inefficient to bounce back and forth, and. . ."

"Walter," she said as she tried not to laugh at how obvious he was being. "Are you saying we should move in together?"

"Yes." 

"Do we have to make a decision right now?" She got out of the bed, intending to head for the bathroom.

"No, we can think about it," he said as he got up and followed her. "Analyze all the pros and cons of each dwelling. I could run an algorithm. . ." He wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Walter. . . I need to take a shower."

He grinned. "So do I," he said. "I was thinking, for efficiency's sake. . ."

"Efficiency, huh?" She smiled, realizing being efficient was probably the last thing on his mind at the moment.

"Yes." 

"We'll need to be quick."

"Okay."

Paige had to suppress a giggle as they shut the bathroom door.

_____

"Ralph, come on." Paige was in her bedroom, gathering up a few more items of clothing to take back to the garage. "Did you find your shirt?"

"Yes." The boy stood in the doorway, wearing his Cal Tech tee. "I found this by the front door. It has your name on it."

He held out a manila envelope. Taking it from him, Paige wondered what it could be. She hadn't noticed it when they had arrived at the condo fifteen minutes ago. But then they'd been in a hurry (and still were). Curiosity got the better of her, however, and she bent the tabs holding down the flap.

Inside was a single 8 x 10 photograph, and when she slipped it out to look at it, it took a few seconds for her to register what she was seeing. Her stomach flipped as she shoved it back into the envelope. _Oh, God._

"What is it, Mom?" 

"Uh. . ." Wracking her brain, she latched onto the first thought that made sense. "Um, it's a picture of the damage to Walter's Datsun."

"Oh," the boy said. "Can I see it?"

"No," she snapped. "We don't have time, we're already late. Come on."

"All right." Ralph ran over to grab his backpack then toward the front door.

Paige fumed all the way to the school then back to the garage, wondering if this was Walter's idea of a romantic gesture. If so, it was a disaster. And it didn't even begin to explain the lie he had told her.

She pulled up in front of the garage, grabbing the envelope, and stormed inside the building, ready to give Walter a piece of her mind, if not her foot up his ass. Thankfully, the rest of the team hadn't arrived yet. This certainly was something she didn't want to air in front of them.

The target of her anger was sitting behind his desk. "Wal. . ." she started to say as she marched toward. him. Her feet came to a halt when she saw the manila envelope in his hands as he opened it, pulling out a single 8 x 10 photograph. Abruptly standing, he shoved the picture back in, then raced toward the stairs, muttering a string of obscenities she'd never heard him use before.

Following him upstairs, Paige stopped when she reached his bedroom, where he was pushing his bed to the left side of the room. Once the piece of furniture was out of the way, she saw that a safe had been embedded in the floor underneath it. A few moments of fumbling and cursing followed before he unlocked it, immediately plunging his hand inside to rummage around its contents. 

Exhaling with relief, Walter sat back on his heels as he extracted the thumb drive.

"You said you erased it."

Paige's angry voice caused him to spin around to see her standing in the doorway, another manila envelope in her hand. "I did." Oh, shit. If that was he thought it was, he was in so much trouble.

"Then how in the hell did I receive this?" she demanded as she yanked out the photo and waved it at him.

Walter felt ill as he recognized it as a still from the video feed of him and Paige having sex on the old musty mattress when they had been held hostage.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo hoo! Chapter 20! This story is going to be longer than Shell Shocked, possibly 5 to 10 more chapters yet to go, depends on how verbose I get. I do have a general outline and an ending in sight, but there are some twists and turns I have to write first before we get there. Hang on kids, it's going to be an angsty ride!

"Y-You g-got one too?" Walter asked stupidly, since she was holding the proof she had in her hand.

"Yes. Ralph was about a second away from opening it. What the hell, Walter." 

He winced at the fury in her voice. "I'm sorry, I don't know why. . ." Stopping himself with a shake of his head, he continued, "That's not true. I do know why I did it. I know it was wrong. But. . .I couldn't help myself."

Confusion filled her eyes, replacing some of her rage. "I don't understand."

"Uh, remember how I hacked the hospital feed of you kissing me?" 

Paige's cheeks flushed pink as she nodded. 

Walter drew in a deep breath. "I had already hacked it before you told me. I, uh, wasn't surprised you, ah, kissed me. I was surprised you confessed."

"Oh, my God. . .you. . ." 

"I'm sorry. I-I know I'm a. . .a p-pervert," he stated, hanging his head. "I've done this before. . .watching video of myself interacting with w-women. To see where I've gone wrong. . ."

"Dammit, Walter." Paige closed her eyes and a pained expression crossed her face. He recognized that look. He knew what it meant. It had happened to him more times than he cared to count.

"P-Please, don't. . ." The rest of his plea stuck in his throat.

"Don't what?"

"L-Leave me. P-Please don't leave me," he begged, choking out the words. "I-I'm sorry, Paige. Please. . . I'll destroy it. Right now." He sprinted out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

"Walter. . ." Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he saw she was following him.

Grabbing a mallet from Happy's toolbox, he flung the drive onto the tabletop before swinging the heavy hammer down on it, smashing it into pieces.

"Walter, stop!" Ignoring her, he kept striking it until there was nothing left but tiny shards of plastic and twisted metal. Tossing the mallet down on the workbench, he grasped its edge, gasping for air. 

"Walter, I'm not going to leave you," Paige said quietly, placing her hand on her stomach. "I love you."

"I'm so sorry," he apologized once again. "I-I only w-watched it once. Before I erased the feed. They had taken it from us, our first time, my first. . ." He inhaled raggedly before continuing, "Turned it into something dirty. . .something sordid. . . But when I watched it, and saw how beautiful you were. . . It was like I had reclaimed it. . .and made it into the most wonderful moment of my life again."

Walter snuck a glance at her then. She was biting her lip. "I don't know how else to explain it," he said, his shoulders sagging. 

"Oh, God, Walter." Her voice wavered and he noticed the tears filling her eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I promise I'll never. . ."

She cut him off by placing her lips on his, sliding her hands up the sides of his neck and into his hair. He tentatively kissed her back, stunned she would even want to touch him, as depraved as he was.

"It's okay," Paige whispered as she pulled back, grasping the sides of his face. He was trembling, no doubt scared to death she was going to dump him. "I mean what you did, well, I'm not happy about it. It's, uh, it's kind of creepy, but. . . I understand now why you did it." 

"You're not mad at me?" He sounded surprised.

"Not anymore." She wrapped her arms around him, felt him relax. Taking a step back, she realized she still held the envelope in one hand. Deciding to get rid of it and its offensive contents, she started to rip it in two.

"Wait." Walter grabbed her arm. "Was there some kind of message?"

"I don't know, I just looked at it for a second."

Retrieving his from where it had dropped on the floor, they both removed the pictures from their envelopes, quickly flipping them over to the other side of the photo. "Nothing," he said before turning it over again. His cheeks flushed as he scanned the picture, willing himself to focus on a time stamp in the lower right hand corner.

"Hang on," he said, doing the same with Paige's photo as he ran the numbers through his head. "Dammit." He pointed to the stamp on the first picture. "This is how many hours it's been since I last saw Mark Collins." Indicating the other photo, he added, "And this is how many days it's been since I had him committed the first time."

"Oh, God." Paige's face paled. "Mark Collins. But how. . .?"

"It's not possible," Walter stated. "He's locked up. I check on his status every week." He'd kept close tabs on his former friend since the nuclear plant incident, vowing to never be taken off guard by the psychopath again.

She glanced at him. "Really?"

"Yes. He's a threat to everyone on this team. I need to make sure he's where he's supposed to be." Walter reached into his pocket for his phone and unlocked it before dialing.

"This is Walter O'Brien, " he said. "Yes, I'll hold." A few moments passed before he spoke again, "Thank you." He ended the call with a jab of his finger. He glanced at Paige. "He's there. They just checked on him."

"But couldn't he have hacked into the feed before you deleted it?"

"Yes, if he'd known about it." Walter ran his hand through his hair. "He's not allowed unsupervised access to a computer. Logic dictates it can't be Collins, he would never go after me directly. That's not his style. He'd go after someone else on the team; Happy, Toby, Sly, Cabe. . .you." He glanced at her, sick at the thought of anything happening to her, especially now. "But. . ."

Paige smiled. "Your instinct is telling you it is?" He nodded. "When I first met you, you would have never even noticed your instinct. And now you're listening to it. That's progress, Walter."

"Maybe so, but it still doesn't help us figure out who sent these to us." Picking up the photos, he shoved them both into one of the envelopes. 

"Other than the fact they're a pretty sick individual," said Paige. She placed her hand on Walter's shoulder. "We better clean up this mess before everyone. . ." Her words were drowned out by the loud creaking of the garage door.

Walter hastily brushed the shattered drive pieces into his hand. With the shards digging into his skin, he dashed over to the nearest garbage can and tossed them in. Paige had snatched up the envelopes, and had hurried over to her desk, stuffing them into a drawer as the rest of the team filed into the building.

_____

Two weeks later, Walter was brushing his teeth when a loud ‘dammit' came from Paige's bedroom. Flinging his toothbrush into the sink, he rushed into the room to find her lying on her back on her bed. The fly of her jeans was hanging open as she breathed heavily.

"W-What's wrong?" he asked through a mouth full of toothpaste.

"My jeans. I can't get them zipped up. Why can't I get them zipped?" 

He accidentally swallowed as he tried to hold back a chuckle. "You're pregnant," he pointed out once he could speak again.

"I know I'm pregnant!" she wailed. "I'm only three and a half months! I didn't start showing with Ralph until I was almost six months along. Why am I so fat this time?"

"You're not fat," he said before adding, "your uterus is like a balloon. It's not so easy to blow up the first time because it's never been expanded, but once it's been stretched, it blows up much quicker the second time."

"Dammit, I'm not a balloon!"

Walter gulped, realizing his scientific analogy probably wasn't what she wanted to hear. Although he doubted anything he said would be what she wanted to hear at the moment. He inched closer to the bed and when she didn't react, he sat down next to her. 

"I know you're not a balloon, I was just explaining why. . ."

"You and your damn efficiency are why I'm in this condition in the first place," she cut in. "Of course, you would knock me up on your first try." She rose up on her elbows. "Wipe that smug smile off your face."

"I love you," he said, his grin growing wider.

"Shut up and go me find something that fits."

"Okay." Leaning over, he placed a kiss on her belly. Sitting back up, he saw the tears gathering in the corner of her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She sat up and wiped at her cheeks.

"You're crying."

"I'm just remembering the first time you did that."

"Did what?"

"Kissed me. . .here," she explained, resting her hand on her abdomen. "That day in your loft, after you lured me upstairs for cheesecake and. . ."

"I did not lure. . ."

She giggled at his indignation. "Yes you did. You lured me with salty sweet cheesecake then had your wicked way . ." Interrupting herself by hiccuping, she stared at him. "You already knew then, didn't you?"

"Yes."

Plopping back onto the mattress, she sighed. "Of course, you did." She rubbed her belly. "I'm already outnumbered by geniuses. If this one turns out to be one too. . .it's going to be your fault."

"Okay." Walter stretched out beside her, tracing circles on her stomach. 

"We don't have time for this," she said, although she didn't try to stop him. "I need. . ."

"Mom? Walter?" Ralph's voice came from just outside the bedroom.

"Just a minute, honey." Paige slid off the bed, pulling her blouse down over her unzipped jeans before she walked over to the door. 

"There's two this time," her son said, holding out two manila envelopes. "One for you and one for Walter."

"Oh, God."

Walter came up behind her, taking the envelopes from Ralph. "Are they more pictures of your car?" the boy asked.

Darting a glance at Paige, who nodded, Walter said, "Uh, sure."

"Okay." Ralph stared at them for a moment. "We're going to be late if you two don't quit fooling around." With that, he turned around and headed toward the living room.

"Well," Paige said, exhaling loudly. "Should we look at them? I mean, I'm pretty sure of what's inside. . ."

"We need to look for clues," Walter stated, opening the envelope with his name on it. Another photo of him and Paige. Another time stamp in the lower right hand corner. He closed his eyes when he realized what the numbers indicated.

"What is it?" He turned to Paige who was biting her lip.

"The hours since Megan. . ." He drew in a ragged breath. 

"Oh, God, that's. . ." Placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, she added, "whoever is doing this. . . is just. . .sick."

Not trusting himself to speak, Walter opened the other envelope. Different picture. Different time stamp. 2184. What the hell had happened 2184 hours ago? Nothing significant came to mind. Okay, not hours then. 2184 day. . . _Oh, shit_. . .

Paige gazed at him with a puzzled expression. "What's wrong? What does it mean?"

Breaking out in a sweat, he said, "Uh, it's how many days since, ah, Mark and I first went down a rabbit hole." 

"How many people would know that?" she asked.

"Only three," he answered tersely. "I need to talk to Collins." Crushing the photos in his hand, Walter headed out of the bedroom, 

"Now?" Paige started to follow him, then remembered her jeans. "Walter, wait. . ."

"This has to stop," he said, turning back around to face her. "He needs to be stopped."

"I'm coming with you." Paige crossed her arms over her chest, inadvertently pushing her breasts higher. He was distracted for a moment, as her pregnancy had enlarged them even more than her belly. 

Shaking the lascivious thoughts from his head, he stated, "No."

"Yes." She glared at him. "This isn't just about you. As I'm sure you've noticed, I'm in those pictures, too. If you're going, I'm going."

Walter rubbed the back of his neck. Dammit, she wasn't going to budge on this, if the determined gleam in her eyes was anything to go by. "Fine," he acquiesced.

_____

Two hours later, after Paige had found a pair of leggings that still fit and they had dropped Ralph off at school, she and Walter were led into a sparsely furnished room by an orderly. Walter pulled out one of the chairs for her to sit on before he took the remaining one.

Thumps and clicks could be heard in the distance. Paige started when she felt Walter's hand reached out for hers. Lifting her gaze, she saw he was as nervous as she was. Probably even more so, since he knew what the psychopathic ex-team member was capable of better than anyone. Smiling reassuringly, she squeezed his hand.

The door on the other side of the room opened and they both turned to watched a man walk toward them. 

"Hello, Walter," Mark Collins drawled, a smirk gracing his bearded face.


	21. Chapter 21

_"Hello, Walter," Mark Collins drawled, a smirk gracing his bearded face._

Walter inwardly cringed at the sound of the other man's voice. Outwardly though, he remained stoic, knowing Mark's sing-song hypnotic way of speaking could lull a person into allowing him into their head to prey upon their insecurities, their vulnerabilities. Any sign of fear, any display of emotion at all, and Collins would exploit that weakness to its fullest extent.

It was why he hadn't wanted to bring Paige. She was his biggest weakness. She left him vulnerable in ways he'd never imagined. And he knew the man taking a seat on the opposite side of the table would revel in destroying both of them.

"And what do I owe for the pleasure of this visit?" the ex-team member asked, sending a scathing glance Paige's way. "I see you brought your little waitress with you. Is she here to serve us lunch? It's only ten thirty, a bit early for lunch. Maybe brunch? I do love a good brunch."

Paige opened her mouth to protest Mark's insult but Walter pressed her fingers. A reaction was just what the other man was hoping for, and he wasn't about to obliged his former teammate.

"You know why we're here," Walter said curtly.

"No, I can't say I do." Collins propped his elbows on the table. "I'm guessing by your perturbed tone, you didn't drive all the way here just to catch up on old times." He wiggled closer and smiled. "Remember those days, Walter?" Just you and me, nothing but our minds working in synchronization, entwined together in a frenzy of pure thought, our scientific intercourse lasting for days. . .passionately. . ."

Mark's words swirled around inside his brain, and Walter fought against being sucked into the other man's seductive reminiscences. Slightly repulsed by the way Collins made their trips down the rabbit hole seem so. . .so sexual, he forced the disturbing thoughts from his mind.

"So you haven't been sending us pictures?" he asked briskly.

"Pictures? Pictures of what?" Collins appeared to be genuinely confused, although although he had to be feigning ignorance. He was the only one who could possibly be behind all this. 

Turning to Paige, he saw she'd reached the same conclusion. "Pictures with time stamps denoting significant dates in my life." 

Collins leaned forward, drawing even nearer. "If I tell you what I know about these pictures, will you put in a good word for me? I have a competency hearing coming up in a few weeks. I don't like this place. There are some really crazy people in here." He looked over his shoulder, his upper lip curled in disgust.

Walter knew he was being played but decided to go willingly into the trap. If there was the smallest chance his ex-friend could give him the answers he was looking for, he needed to take it.

"Yes," he agreed. "Just let me know the date of your hearing and I'll be there." He felt pressure on his hand, seeing out of the corner of his eye Paige's dismayed expression. "Now, about the pictures," he said, hoping she would forgive him for ignoring her concern.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Mark replied. "I haven't sent you anything. I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?"

Paige's question caused his former teammate to twist his lips into an ugly sneer. "I'll use small words so even the waitress can understand," he said condescendingly. "No pens, no pencils, no computer access. Even with my superior intellect," he cast a disparaging glance at the orderly who had remained in the room, "I can't overcome those obstacles."

"I don't believe that." Walter narrowed his eyes at Collins. "You can overcome anything you put your mind to. Sending me time stamped photos would be child's play for you."

"Believe what you want. I haven't sent you so much as a postcard." A taunting grin grew on the psychopath's face. "It does make me curious, however. What bothers you more, Walter. . .the content of the photos or the numbers on them?"

"Neither. I just want the harassment to stop." Collins was toying with him. He had to be. Why else would he bring up the photos' subject matter? He was also one of the only three people who knew the significance behind the number 2184. "This reeks of your MO, Mark," he snapped. "Are you going to sit there and. . ."

Clamping his mouth shut, Walter knew he had let his emotions get the better of him. Inhaling deeply, he got to his feet. "We're wasting our time here," he announced, helping Paige out of her chair.

Collins stood up slowly as he pointed an accusing finger. "What. Is. That?"

Looking down, Walter noticed the small bulge of Paige's lower abdomen prominently displayed in her stretchy leggings as she defensively placed her hand on her belly. He looked up at his former friend, then took an involuntary step back.

Mark's anger was almost tangible. "She's pregnant. Who's the father?" he demanded to know. When neither of them answered, he shouted, "Who's the father?"

"None of your business," Walter replied quietly. 

"Nooooo!" Doubled over by the force of his own scream, Collins straightened back up, his eyes bulged maniacally as he glared at them.

"You whore! You ruined him!" Spittle flew from his mouth as he lunged toward Paige. "He's ruined! You've tainted him. . . Pure intellect. . . Above base desires of the flesh. . . Slut. . ." His ranting became less and less coherent. 

Walter moved in front of Paige, shielding her as Mark tried to climb over the table. The orderly was trying to summon help while at the same time trying to restrain him, and managing not to do either one with much success. Collins broke out of his grip, and for a second he was free, launching himself at Walter just as three more orderlies burst into the room. Two of them grappled Mark to the floor where the third man injected a syringe into his neck.

"You folks need to leave," said the first orderly.

Cries of "you ruined him" and "whore" faded as the other men hauled a struggling Collins through the doorway and down a hallway.

Exhaling with relief, Walter turned to Paige, who appeared to be on the verge of collapse. Her face was drained of color and she swayed unsteadily. "I'm going to be sick," she announced before clamping her hand over her mouth.

Rushing out of the room, she ducked into the nearest bathroom. Walter went in after her, hearing her retching as he approached the stall. Grabbing some paper towels from the dispenser, he dampened them under the faucet. 

"Here," he said as he handed them to her once she was done. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "There was a reason I didn't want you to come."

"Oh, God, Walter," she gasped as she dabbed her mouth. "You knew. . . You knew he would be upset about the baby?"

Shaking his head, he replied, "No, not that specifically. He despises women. It goes way beyond typical misogyny. Someone fu. . .uh, screwed with his head long before I ever met him. From things he let slip, I think it was his mother." He shrugged. "It's why he and Happy were always at each other's throats."

"And here I thought he just hated humanity in general," Paige said with a weary chuckle. "Help me up."

Walter did as she asked then wrapped his arms around her. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "I thought I was done with morning sickness. I guess not." Stepping back, she added, "We're back to square one again, aren't we?"

"Yes." And he didn't like it. Someone was targeting either him or Paige or perhaps both of them. He wasn't so worried about himself, but if something happened to her. . .or the baby. . . He didn't think he could live with himself.

_____

"And where have you two been?" Toby asked as soon as Walter and Paige walked through the garage door.

"What are you, a time clock?" Happy flipped up her welding helmet and glared at him. 

"We had a doctor's appointment," Walter lied.

Making a sound like a game show buzzer, the shrink shook his head. "Nope. Your baby doctor appointment is next week and you're not scheduled to see Dr Rizzuto until Wednesday. Try again."

"Why do you have our schedule memorized?" Paige set her purse on her desk before taking off her coat.

"I just do, okay?" Toby held up a manila envelope. "Does it have anything to do with this?"

"Shit." "Oh, God." Walter, noting that Paige looked ill again, hurried over to the psychiatrist's desk. "Give me that," he demanded, trying to snatch it out of the other man's hand. "You have no business going through my mail."

"Nope, not yours." Toby raised the envelope over his head, pointing at the familiar handwriting. "See, it says ‘Team Scorpion,' of which I am a member. And oh, yeah, Sylvester is permanently traumatized now," he added, glancing over at the human calculator, who was counting all the items on his desk while muttering to himself. "So, what gives?"

"I think it's pretty self-explanatory," Walter said through gritted teeth. Paige, her cheeks flushed pink, came up to stand beside him. "We went to question Mark Collins."

"Coo-Coo-Collins?" The shrink pursed his lips in confusion. "What does he have to do with this?"

"Nothing." Walter filled the rest of the team in about the time stamps adding up to events only the former team member would care about. "But we know now he's not the one who sent them."

"Why are you so certain it's not him?" asked Happy, joining the group clustered around Toby's desk. "He does have some kind of kinky numbers fetish where you're concerned."

"It's not him," Walter said decidedly. "We need to figure out who is sending the photos and what they want." He held out his hand and Toby handed him the envelope. The contents were unsurprising and he had to hold back a smile as he decoded the numbers. "The number of days since that day at the diner," he announced. The day that had changed his life forever. Meeting Paige and Ralph, reuniting with Cabe, Scorpion finally fulfilling its promise. . .

It was one of the most important days of his life. But then so was Megan's death, committing Collins. . .

"The time stamps." It all made sense now. Walter rushed over to the file cabinet where they kept copies of their completed missions. Yanking open the top drawer, he rifled through its contents until he found the file that he needed.

"Could you fill us in, 197?" Toby asked as he, Happy, and Paige gathered around Walter's desk as he opened the folder and flipped through it.. 

"Dammit." Pointing at a paragraph, he then slapped his hand on it.

"What is it?" Paige touched his shoulder.

"In the official report about the Montero nuclear plant, Collins's penchant for using important dates between us for his codes and passwords is noted."

"Oh, God, Walter, I'm sorry." Finally snapping out of his self-induced trance, Sylvester rose to his feet. "I put that in my report. I thought it might be relevant. I didn't know. . ."

Walter tried to give his brother a reassuring smile. "It's okay, Sly. I put it in my report too."

The younger man looked relieved by Walter's falsehood. He glanced at Paige, who nodded her approval.

"So what does it mean?" asked Happy.

Toby supplied the answer to her question. "It means someone at Homeland who has access to our case files is more than likely the person who is targeting Walter and the rest of Scorpion."

"You can't possibly believe Cabe has anything to do with this," Paige said, putting her hands on her hips. 

"Of course not," said Walter as he picked up a pen and started fidgeting with it. 

"What about Molina?" Happy asked. "You're still on probation, Walt. Maybe she's hoping you'll snap again so she can get rid of us?"

"Maybe." Toby looked pensive as he shrugged. "It's a possibility."

"Hey, guys." Everyone turned to look at Sylvester. "Remember what Tim said his first day here?" 

"He said a lot of things, Sly," Walter replied impatiently. "Most of it inane."

"No, he said he specifically asked to be assigned to Scorpion."

The human calculator's words sank into Walter's brain and he could see by the expressions on the others' faces, they were coming to the same conclusion he had reached.

A loud creak filled the garage, announcing the arrival of Cabe, followed by a dopey grin wearing Tim.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Messing with the time line again. The tiniest bit of "Civil War" and quite a lot of "Hard Knox" at the end of the chapter.

"You agree with Toby, don't you?" Walter was helping Paige with the dishes later that evening, drying and putting them away after she washed and rinsed them. Ralph had gone to bed early, which meant he was probably playing video games under the covers.

Her condo had won the cohabitation contest, as it provided them with more privacy, and would eventually be easier to baby proof. But the deciding factor had been living at the apartment had meant less upheaval for Ralph. They still stayed the occasional night at the garage, mainly after long missions or when Walter wanted to work on one of his projects.

"About Tim and whether he's behind the harassment?" she asked as she scrubbed a skillet. "Yes, I do."

For the rest of the day, the shrink had told them the trainee couldn't possibly be behind the photographs, all the while not giving a reason why he thought the intern was innocent. Toby would only say he had information he wasn't at liberty to divulge. And no one could pry it out of him. Not even Happy.

"Why?"

"Because you and the rest of the team investigated him rather thoroughly. Plus I don't think he's smart enough." 

"You don't?" Walter didn't know why he was surprised by her statement, but he was. And, if he was being honest with himself, relieved her belief in the trainee's innocence didn't appear to be because of some secret interest he irrationally believed she was harboring for the other man. 

"I'm not saying he's dumb but he'd never come up with something like this on his own. He's a follower, not a leader." Flipping on the faucet, she rinsed off the pan before placing it on the rack.

Walter absently picked it up and ran his dishtowel over it. "He still could be doing it on someone's orders."

"Someone like Molina?" Paige unplugged the sink, the water swirling away as it was sucked down the drain. "You just don't like her because she was just going to leave Sly in prison."

"There is that." Slinging the towel over his shoulder, he added, "You have to admit it's more than a coincidence this didn't start until after he joined the team."

"Are you sure about that?" She took the dishtowel from him and dried off her hands. 

"Sure about what?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

"It's probably nothing, but. . ." Paige began, "our lives, your life, has been pretty wild ever since we were, uh, taken hostage." Pausing to take a breath, she then continued, "There was your credit card getting hacked, and the hit and run, and now these pictures. . . Well, what if they're not just coincidences?"

"What if they're part of some bigger conspiracy?" Walter chuckled. "Now you really are sounding like Toby and all his crazy theories." 

But something in the back of his brain wondered if she might be right. Maybe someone at Homeland was out to get him. He'd normally scoff at such paranoid thoughts but. . . If he believed in bad luck, he'd say they'd had quite a string of it the last few months. He had been so sure Collins had been behind the photos. But after the scene the crazy genius had thrown, it was plain the other man had nothing to do with them.

Visiting Mark had bothered him more than he cared to admit. The other man represented a huge error in his judgement. He'd been so thrilled someone had wanted to be his friend, accepting him for what he was. Someone who had been an equal. He'd been so blinded, he had failed to see Collins's darker side until it was almost too late. 

Paige startled him from his thoughts as she placed her hands on his shoulders. "What's wrong ?" she said as she rubbed his knotted muscles. 

"Nothing." It was still disconcerting she could read him so easily. 

"Bull poop. Seeing Collins again messed with your head, didn't it?" She kissed his cheek. "It was nuts he got so upset about us being, well, intimate," she commented. 

Walter closed his eyes. "Was it so obvious?"

"What?"

"That I was a virgin." He drew in a ragged breath. "I know you said it didn't matter but. . ."

"It didn't," she replied. "It doesn't. I kind of figured out you were before you told me. But. . ." She held up her hand as he opened his mouth. "But it was only because I know you so well."

"But the way Mark reacted. . . And Toby's made some insinuating remarks. . . It's almost like I had a neon sign on my forehead."

Paige laughed as she patted her stomach. "Well, it's pretty obvious you're not now, isn't it?" She slid her arms behind his neck. "Like I said before, it's nothing to be ashamed of, Walter." She pressed her mouth to his.

"Wow, you're really tense," she said as she pulled away. "I think you need one of my patented relaxing massages." She wiggled her eyebrows.

Stifling as groan as he remembered how the last ‘massage' she'd given him had ended, he could only nod wordlessly.

Flashing him a coy smile, she took his hand and led him into their bedroom.

_____

About a week later, Walter followed Paige and Ralph to a booth at Kovelski's. It had been another one of those long, exhausting, ‘Save the World' days, filled with Bulgarian hackers and nuclear weapons and huge balls of aluminum foil. He was almost too tired to eat but Paige was hungry and she had to be more exhausted than he was. Being in a building struck by a missile was stressful for an average person, but had to be doubly so for a pregnant woman.

"Oh, excuse me." A slightly familiar voice to his right caught his attention as someone bumped into him. A glimpse of long blonde hair confirmed it was a female. And one he knew.

"Linda. Oh, hey, sorry."

"Oh, no, it was my fault," she said, gazing up at him. "Funny running into you here. I mean, not literally, but I guess I did just that. . ."

"Um, how have you been?" he asked, cutting off her rambling. He hadn't given her much thought since he'd turned down her offer of a second date several months earlier. Looking down at her and the sharp canines revealed by her nervous smile made him wonder why he had ever accepted in the first place. She did have a symmetrically pleasing face, and was a nice person. But she could never be Paige. 

"Walter?" As if he had summoned her by his thoughts, Paige appeared by his side. "I'm going to the bathroom." She placed her hand on her burgeoning belly. 

"Oh, you're pregnant?"

Linda's question was more of a statement. And he saw a brief glimpse of what he thought might be sadness pass over the other woman's face. 

"Uh, Linda, right?" Paige smiled serenely. "Yep."

"When are you due?" the blonde asked.

"Middle of October," answered the liaison. She patted Walter's arm. "I really gotta go. Nice seeing you again," she said to the other woman before taking off toward the restrooms.

"Are you the father?" Linda waited until Paige was out of earshot to spring her inquiry on him.

"Yes," he said, pride creeping into his voice. He didn't know why, he'd done nothing spectacular. Billions of other men had done the same throughout the course of human history. Yet he was damn proud of his impending fatherhood. He chuckled quietly at his own arrogance.

"She must have gotten pregnant not too long after our date."

Linda's sharply spoken words reminded him she was still standing before him. Was she jealous? She had turned him down first, why would she care if he'd moved on to another woman? The woman of his dreams, the one he'd thought he could never have, the one he planned on loving for the rest of his life.

"Uh, yeah." Glancing over his shoulder, he nodded toward the back of the deli. "Listen, Linda, I'd, um, better go see how Ralph's doing." Taking a deep breath to brace himself, he lied, "Nice seeing you again."

"Oh, you, too, Walter." She stared up at him, tears forming in her eyes. "Good luck with. . .everything, I guess." She spun around, nearly colliding into a couple waiting at the counter. 

His concern for her was short-lived as Paige rushed toward him, her face glowing with excitement. "Come here," she said, grabbing his arm, pulling him toward their booth. "You, too, Ralph."

Snatching one of Walter's hands, then one of her son's, she pressed them onto her abdomen. "Wait," she said. 

Several moments passed before there was a flutter against his palm, so light he thought he'd imagined it. Then it happened again, stronger this time. Glancing over at Ralph, he saw the boy had felt it too. 

"That's the baby," Paige said. 

"Wow." Ralph seemed genuinely impressed. "Does it hurt? Did I kick like that, too?"

"No and yes," Paige replied, ruffling her son's hair. "It does get a bit harder as the baby gets bigger and stronger. And I thought you were going to be a soccer player the way you kicked so much."

"That's so cool." The youngster rubbed his hand against her stomach then scooted into the booth. "I'm hungry."

She glanced over at Walter, the look of utter amazement on his face making her eyes grow damp. Biting her lip, she nudged him. "You okay?"

A smile spread across his face. "Yeah." 

Blinking away her tears, she slid into the booth. "Let's eat. I'm hungry, too." 

Walter sat down beside her and she leaned over, kissing his cheek before handing him a menu.

_____

"Gather up, gang." Cabe's voice rang through the garage as he walked through the creaking door. "Tim's coming in with an Agent Cook from the Department of Defense. He has top clearance and these guys don't mess around."

"What kind of case?" asked Walter. 

"Don't know," the Homeland agent replied. "Cook contacted Tim. Something about Tim's dad being an old friend of his or something. They'll fill us in when they get here."

"DoD," said Happy as she, Toby, and Sylvester all looked guiltily at each other before the mechanic muttered, "Not good." Everyone but Paige and Cabe had hacked the Defense Department's databases at one point, including Ralph. 

That wasn't as worrisome as the fact Tim was bringing in the case. The team was split on the intern's innocence, with Happy and Sly siding with Walter. Cabe had deliberately been left in the dark about their suspicions of his trainee.

Fifteen minutes later, Tim and a man dressed in a military uniform, who was carrying a large blue duffel bag strolled into the garage. The team listened restlessly as Agent Cook gave them a brief history of Fort Knox.

"Knox also houses historic valuables belonging to foreign governments for safekeeping because the facility is, without question, the most secure on earth," he droned on. 

"I'm sensing a big ‘but' coming," interrupted Toby with a giggle. "Big butt."

Both Paige and Happy rolled their eyes as the liaison thumped the shrink in the chest and the mechanic slapped the back of his head.

Cook ignored them, continuing on with his explanation. "The Treasury privatized the security by hiring a Blackwater-like firm. The DoD feels this compromises our nation's treasures and reserves and we want to prove it to the president."

"Okay." Walter wasn't sure what the man wanted them to do, other than look for flaws. "Provide us with aerial photos and a breakdown of the security company's operational logistic and we'll analyze their effectiveness."

The Defense agent shook his head. "No. I can't use theories. I need proof Steelson Security is compromising the integrity of the base. And the only way to prove Fort Knox isn't secure. . ." He paused as he glanced around at the team, ". . .is to break in."

"Crazy-man-says-what-now?" Toby and Sylvester said simultaneously.

Walter could only stare at the man. Break into Fort Knox? As Cook went on about jeweled Prussian scepters and waved a million dollars of tax-free cash under their noses, the more determined he was to take a pass on a mission that would be nothing short of suicidal.

You know what, i-it is very tempting," he began when the agent finished his presentation, "but there are too many variables... and we're not lab rats. Put us in a cage and see if the trap springs? No, thank you."

"Yeah, Walter's right," Tim chimed in. "These guys, they don't do Mission: Impossible. I mean, the mechanical obstacles they would face in the vault alone are too daunting." He smiled at Happy.

"Easy, Prom King. I can figure out any safe," the mechanic said smugly.

The intern went on as if she hadn't said anything, basically insulting Toby's profiling skills, and Walter and Sylvester's hacking abilities. He was manipulating their egos, and doing a damn good job of it. Walter felt compelled to defend the honor of his team, but his decision to take the assignment wasn't solely based on ego or honor.

It was to expose Timothy Armstrong as the provocateur who was behind all the trouble that had befallen him and the rest of Scorpion for the past four months.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minimal ‘borrowing' from "Hard Knox" (2x22) in this chapter

"You be okay," Paige said as she clung tightly to Walter. He was dressed in Army fatigues as were Happy and Toby, preparing for their insane task of breaking into Fort Knox. 

She knew why he'd taken the assignment and she wasn't thrilled he was putting his life on the line to prove a point. Yes, Tim had manipulated them into it, but just because he had stepped on their massive egos was no reason to think he had an ulterior motive. He was even going along, he'd be in as much trouble as the rest of them if they got caught. 

"I will," said the man in her arms, interrupting her worrying. "I don't like being away from you."

"I don't like it either," she replied, kissing his nose. "You can still back out of this."

He shook his head. "I know it doesn't feel right, but. . ."

"You think you can uncover Tim's supposed misdeeds." Pulling away a little, she added, "I love you, Walter. But you need to trust me."

"I do trust you." He drew her closer. "I just don't trust him." 

"O'Brien, we needed to leave five minutes ago." Cabe's annoyed shout echoed through the garage. "Kiss her goodbye already and then move your ass."

He smiled guiltily at her. "I love you," he said before doing as the Homeland agent suggested. Placing his hand on her belly, he added, "Take care of Genius 6.0."

Paige bit her lip at the nickname Ralph had come up for the baby. The youngster had explained he, Walter, and the others were geniuses one through five, so of course, the baby would be number six. She just hoped they weren't all disappointed if the child turned out to be ‘normal'. It was a discussion for another day, however.

"I will." She pressed her lips to his one more time. "You better go. I think I see steam starting to come out of Cabe's ears."

"Okay. Bye." He awkwardly let go of her and headed toward the door, looking over his shoulder at her every few steps. 

"It doesn't get any easier." Gallo let the door shut behind them as he and Walter stepped outside. 

"What doesn't?"

"Leaving your family behind," the Homeland agent replied. "I use to worry about Rebecca even before Amanda came along."

"So it's normal to be scared to death something will happen to her or the baby or Ralph while I'm away? 

"Son, you'd be heartless bastard if you weren't." The older man patted Walter on the shoulder as they reached the SUV. "And I know you're not. She's just as worried about you."

Stuffing his duffel into the cargo hold, Walter grumbled, "Knowing that does not help."

"Hopefully it will make you think twice before you do something stupid, like unnecessarily risking your life for the greater good," Cabe said. "It's not just about you anymore, Walter."

"I am aware of that." Flinging himself into the front passenger seat, he buckled himself in. Glancing out the window as they pulled out into the alley, Walter saw Paige waving from the doorway, one hand resting on her stomach. He let that image burn into his mind. 

What Cabe said was true. It wasn't just him anymore. He had a family. One he wanted to come back to in one piece.

_____

Walter's phone rang as they were crawling through a water pipe he was sure would provide them with an escape route. The mission had its share of ups and downs, and after barely surviving the vault filling with water, he hoped that would be the last obstacle they would encounter.

He pulled his cell from his pocket and stared at the screen. Linda? Why the hell was she calling him? He hit the ignore button before jamming back inside his fatigues.

"Who the hell was that?" asked Toby, nearly echoing his own question.

"Linda," he replied tersely.

"You gave her your number?" The shrink sounded incredulous as he came to an abrupt halt.

Almost smacking his face into the other man's behind, Walter sighed. "Keep going, those guards are going to be on us any minute." When the psychiatrist didn't comply, he added, "I had to put it on my speed dating application. That's how she contacted me in the first place."

"But that doesn't explain why she's calling now." Toby remained firmly rooted.

With a groan, Walter realized he was going to have to confess everything in order to get the other man moving again. "We ran into her a couple of weeks ago at Kovelski's and she's been calling me ever since."

"What?"

He winced at the fury in Paige's voice over his com. "I haven't spoken to her," he stated. "I have no idea what she wants."

"She wants your hot booty," Happy deadpanned. "And she's welcome to it. Personally, I'm tired of staring at it. Quit with the fifth degree, Doc, and get your ass in gear."

"Okay, okay." Toby started forward. 

"You want me to talk to her the next time she calls?" Paige offered. "You know, a little woman to woman, heart to heart talk?"

"Uh, no," he declined, grimacing at the thought of the two women and the conversation they might have about him. "I'll deal with it the next time she calls."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." The shrink had halted again, this time because the pipe curved upward at roughly a 90 degree angle. "Listen, we've reached an outlet. We should be out of here in a few minutes."

"Okay. Be careful." 

"I will." 

He wasn't.

_____

"I hate to admit it, but I think you guys might be right," Paige said to Walter as they dished up their plates later that evening. She and Sylvester had gone out to Papa Carpini's and had brought back a selection of Italian food. They'd hauled it up to the roof before the rest of the team had returned to the garage. She'd thought Walter, Happy, and Toby might appreciate being out in the open air after spending most of the day underground.

"We're right about a lot of things.' Walter glanced at her with a cocky grin. "You're going have to be more specific."

Bumping him with her hip, she rolled her eyes. "Tim," she explained. The intern wasn't there. He and Cabe were being debriefed at Homeland. Paige just hoped Molina wouldn't use this incident as a way to cut ties with Scorpion. It had hardly been their fault the mission had been bogus from the start. 

"It is awful suspicious he's the one who brought Cook to us. He's the one who manipulated you into taking this case. He's not really a member of the team, he's only temporarily assigned. . ."

"That's what we've been saying all along," Walter said as he held out a chair for her before sitting down beside her.

"Who's been saying what all along?" asked Toby.

"That Tim's behind the string of bad luck we've been having," Paige replied before stabbing a forkful of her chicken Parmesan. 

"And I keep telling you he's not."

"Even after what happened today?" Sly asked. "You guys could be on your way to Leavenworth right now because of him." He shuddered, no doubt thinking of his own time spent behind bars.

"Yeah, and Tim would be there right alongside us." The shrink adjusted his hat. "He's not the bad guy. Trust me."

"No." Walter rose to his feet. "No, I can't trust you if I don't know why. You keep saying he's not the one, but you won't offer any proof. Sylvester's right." He paused to draw a deep breath. "W-We all could be in a federal prison right now. I need to know if he's a threat to my team or not. I cannot allow what happened today to ever happen again. There's to-too much at stake." He glanced down at Paige's protruding belly before glaring at the psychiatrist again.

"So I need to you to tell me why I should trust him. Because until you do, he's off the team."

"I. . . It's not my. . ." 

"It's all right, Toby."

Everyone turned to watch as Tim stepped out onto the roof. Paige felt sick, wondering just how much of Walter's tirade the trainee had heard. Not that she disagreed with anything he had said, but. . . But it had been pretty blunt.

"I know you won't believe me when I say I had no idea Cook's real objective was the polonium." His gaze flicked around the table. "I know you don't trust me. I'm an outsider, an interloper. . ."

"Why did you ask to be assigned to us?" Sylvester cut in. "It's suspicious. . ."

"I asked for Scorpion because I wanted to work with people who use their brains instead of just their brawn." He touched his hand to his back. "I'm undergoing the knife next week to remove the shrapnel lodged near my spine, and there's a 45% chance I could end up paralyzed."

Paige covered her mouth as she gasped. A quick look around the table told her Toby and Sly were as shocked as she was, Happy appeared to be slightly concerned, and Walter. . . Well, he seemed perplexed by the risk the other man was taking.

"I'd read about you guys, saw all the good you've done, and wanted to be a part of it," he continued. "You're all amazing in your own ways. . . Paige, Happy, Sylvester, Toby. . .Walter. . ." 

The intern's bright blue eyes rested on the curly haired genius, and Paige had to smother another sharp intake of breath. Oh, God, Tim had a crush on Walter. Glancing over at Toby, who met her gaze for a second before turning away, she realized the shrink knew of the trainee's infatuation. That's what he had been hiding from them.

"But if you want me out, just say so and I'll go. I'm going to be on leave for the next few weeks or so anyway, depending on how my surgery goes." 

"You can stay." Walter sat back down after making his pronouncement. "And. . .uh. . .um. . ."

"I think he's trying to say good luck with your surgery," Paige said, interpreting Walter's stammering.

"Yes, although I don't believe in lu. . ." The rest of his sentence remained unfinished as she squeezed his leg. 

"So that's it? We're all good now?" Happy's words were dripping with sarcasm. "He flatters our abilities then plays on our sympathies and we're just supposed to accept him? I still don't trust him."

"You don't trust anybody," Sylvester pointed out. 

The mechanic glared at him. "He's just like every other normal who's tried to use us for their own gain. Why should I believe he's different?"

"Happy. . ." Toby's admonishment was cut short by Tim.

"You want the real reason why I wanted to work with Scorpion?" the intern asked. Happy and Sly both nodded. Walter just stared at the other man. Paige wondered if he had figured it out on his own or if it was something that would never cross his mind.

"No." Walter stood up again. "I've already said he could stay. This discussion is over." He glanced at Paige, who smiled uncertainly at him. He turned his attention back to Tim. "Do you think Molina could be behind this?"

The trainee shrugged. "No idea. I've only met her once in passing."

"Behind what?" Once again, everyone's attention was drawn to the doorway, where a pissed off Cabe was standing. "What the hell has been going on behind my back? I want answers and I want them now."

_____

"Ugh." Paige rolled over and smacked the alarm. "Only one more week."

Walter's head emerged from under the blanket. "One more week of what?" he said as he yawned.

"School." Paige leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Then we wake up at six thirty anyway but without the alarm."

"And how is that different?"

"It just is." Sitting up, she swung her legs so her feet rested on the floor. "Ugh, I really gotta go pee."

"It's the weight of your uterine contents - fetus, amniotic fluid, placenta - pressing against. . .". 

"I've done this before, Mister Smarty-Pants," she interrupted with a chuckle as she made her way to the bathroom. "I know what it feels like to have someone tap-dancing on my bladder."

"Hey," she said as she came back into the bedroom to see him still lying in bed. "You know you never did tell me why you changed your mind about Tim."

Walter sprang up to a sitting position. "I just did," he said a bit too quickly. "And why are you asking me this now?"

"I don't know, I was just thinking about it." She sat down on the mattress beside him.

"You were thinking about Tim while using the. . .the . . ."

"Toilet. You can say toilet, Walter." She rolled her eyes. "After all we've done together, we can talk about bodily functions. . ."

"I know." He let out a defeated sigh. "I changed my mind about Tim because. . .he, uh. . .he. . ."

"He has a major crush on you?"

"Yeah, that," the genius replied sheepishly. "I didn't even realize he was. . ."

"Gay? It's not like he wears a neon sign on his forehead, Walter," she said with a laugh.

His eyes narrowed as he recognized his own words quoted back at him. "It's just. . . I don't. . ."

"I know, and it's all right." Standing up, she glanced at the clock. "I need to take a shower or we'll be. . ."

The ringing of his phone cut her off. He reached for it, thinking it had to be Cabe with a case. Who else would be calling them so early in the morning?

"Uh, hello?" 

"Walter?"

"Linda? What the hell do you want?"


	24. Chapter 24

_"Linda? What the hell do you want?"_

Walter hadn't meant to be so rude, but. . . Dammit. He just wanted her to quit bothering him. There was nothing between them and there never would be. She needed to comprehend that simple fact.

"Oh, I'm sorry. . . I didn't wake you up, did ?" Linda's apologetic voice made him flinch with impatience.

"No, I was already awake." Switching his phone to speaker, his words all coming out in a rush as he blurted out, "Listen, Linda, I-have-things-to-do-and-you-need-to-stop-calling-me." There was a long pause on her end, and he started to worry she hadn't understood him.

"I'm sorry, Walter," she finally said. "It's just. . . I really need to talk to you."

"About what?" He could think of nothing they needed to discuss. As far as he was concerned, they'd said everything they needed to say to each other.

"I can't tell you over the phone." Sniffing, she went on, "Please, Walter. It won't take more than half an hour. We can get coffee or something." She made a snuffling sound. "It's important."

Crap, she was crying. "Okay, coffee," he said. "When and where? Paige and I have to take Ralph to school but I'll be free after that." 

"Ten o'clock at the Warehouse Café," stated Linda in a shaky voice. "Here's the address." She rattled off the street name and number and he filed it away in his brain. "Thanks, Walter. I really appreciate this."

"Okay, uh, see you later?" He ended the call before glancing up at Paige who was frowning back at him.

"Why did you agree to meet her?" she demanded.

Walter exhaled slowly. "Because it's the most efficient way to get rid of her," he said. "Toby said she was suffering from something called damsel disorder. She thinks I'm a knight in shining armor because I rescued her from being blown up. He suggested I should be a jerk to her so she'll be disillusioned and leave me alone." When she didn't say anything, he added, "P-Paige, you have to trust. . ."

"I do trust you, Walter," she said. "She sounded rather desperate. Maybe you should talk to her. If Toby thinks it will help. . ."

"You've been agreeing with him a lot lately."

"He's been making a lot of sense lately." She shrugged.

"I suppose," he grudgingly conceded. Getting out of bed and placing his hands on her hips, he kissed her nose. "You know, since we're going to be late anyway. . ."

She laughed as she pushed him back onto the mattress.

_____

Walter stared at the faded number stenciled across the top of the dilapidated doorway. "2760 South Soto," he murmured, positive it was the address Linda had given him. It looked deserted. If there actually was a café inside the ramshackle old warehouse, he'd eat Toby's hat.

Glancing around, he noticed a nondescript black sedan parked a few yards in front of his, looking out of place in such an industrial area. Exhaling resignedly, he exited his Malibu and approached the building's entrance. The door was unlocked, setting off warning bells in his head. Ignoring them, he stepped over the threshold.

Inside, it was dark, but he could still see the stacks of boxes and pallets scattered around the interior. "Linda?" If she was around, he saw no trace of her. "Linda? It's Walter."

No reply. Obviously he had gotten the address wrong, although he distinctly recalled hearing her voice giving him this one. Impatience filled him, he was wasting his time. He'd try one more time, then he was leaving.

"Linda? You said you wanted to talk. I'm here. Let's. . ."

His words came to a halt as soft footstep sounded behind him. Right before the back of his head exploded with pain and everything went black.

_____

Walter felt like he was fighting through layers of thick fog as he gradually regained consciousness. His head throbbed, and when he cracked open an eye, his vision was blurred. Adding the queasiness he was experiencing to the equation, he self-diagnosed a concussion.

Even with his brain only half-functioning, he realized he'd been set up. But by whom? The same people who had been behind Merrick's treasonous actions? Had they used Linda again for bait? Was that the reason she seemed so anxious to meet with him, because she was being threatened?

He tried to lift his hands but was thwarted by the fact they were tied to the arms of a chair. His ankles were bound to its legs as he learned when he attempted to move them. Staring at the cord wrapped around his wrists, he recognized it as the same type of cord the militia group had used to tie up him and Paige. 

The flood of memories of the time they had been held hostage paralyzed him for a moment or two until he forced himself to focus his attention on his surroundings. It was dark and quiet. His chair was in a clearing surrounded by stacks of boxes. He still retained his clothing, including his shoes and watch, the later digging into his right wrist because of how tightly it was tied down. His watch. . . If he could just break the crystal, he could use the sharp edges to cut through the cord.

Walter twisted his arm, or at least tried to, the cords bit into his skin, impeding his progress. Grunting with effort, he didn't hear the footfalls until the short blonde woman appeared before him.

"Linda? Are you all right?" he inquired as he scanned her from head to toe. She didn't looked injured, although her tear stained face concerned him. Was there another bomb hidden under her tightly buttoned-up coat?

"I'm fine, Walter," she replied, her voice hiccuping. 

He shuffled his chair. "Good," he said briskly. "You can untie me and we can get out of here and I can help you. . ."

"I don't need your help, Walter." She smiled at him, a smile that even with his low EQ seemed slightly deranged. 

"I don't understand, what's. . .?" he began to ask.

She slapped him hard enough the pop echoed through the empty building. "Shut up." Her laughter was tinged with an edge of hysteria as she pulled a gun from her coat pocket.

There were two loud blasts then his abdomen burned as bullets tore through his flesh. Walter grunted at the impact, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out. He didn't know Linda had moved closer until he felt her fingertips trail against the back of his neck.

"How much do you know about me, Walter?" she whispered into his ear, her breath hot and moist on his skin. "What's my last name? Where do I work?"

Between the pain still lingering in his head and the new agony manifesting in his gut, his brain was a little fuzzy. But even so, he realized he had never asked her those question while on their one disastrous date.

"Don't know. Sorry," he responded, closing his eyes as a wave of nausea passed over him. 

"I bet you are." She laughed again. "I work for Homeland. So did my father. He got me the job, in fact. The whole speed dating thing was a ploy we set up so I could meet you. It was almost too easy, you played right into our hands."

"Your father was Merrick." It was clear to him now. It had never made sense the former Homeland director would have used a woman Walter had only dated once to force the team into sabotaging the secret manned rocket launch.

"Correct, Mr Genius," said Linda, her tone laced with sarcasm as she continued to circle around him. "You and your precious Scorpion team killed him, accused him of being a traitor, smearing his good name. . .and mine." She chuckled. "I didn't get fired, but they kept an eye on me. But I couldn't let that stop me.

"I've been behind everything that's gone wrong in your life since that day. I'm the one who told Agent Heehn to ask Gallo for recommendations. . . Oh, yes, I'm the reason you were held hostage," she added when she saw his surprise. "You and your bimbo should be dead. I underestimated the militia's bloodthirstiness and your team's resourcefulness. But since that failed. . ."

"You. . .behind credit card. . ." He could now feel the warm stickiness flowing from his wounds. The edges of his vision were beginning to darken. 

"Yes, the credit card, the hit and run. . . When that failed, I went to see you, pretending I wanted a second date. I stole the access code for the garage and came back after you left on your mission to see if I could find something to blackmail you with."

She sneered at him then. "Finding and copying that thumb drive was a bonus I hadn't expected. I've read all of Scorpion's case files. I knew about your friend Mark Collins and his obsession with dates and decided to toss a little suspicion his way by photoshopping the time stamps onto those disgusting photos of you and your whore."

"Paige," he breathed her name.

"Whatever." Linda stopped in front of him. "None of what I did affected you though. You survived, thrived even. When I saw you at the deli and found out you were to going to be a father. . . Well, I couldn't let that happen. You killed my father. Your little bastard didn't deserve to have one either."

"I'm. . .sorry. . .Merrick. . .it was an accident," he apologized. "He was. . .a traitor. We had to. . .stop him. . .

She raised the gun, aiming it at his head. "He was my father and I loved him. I should blow your genius brain all over this warehouse. But I won't. I want you to die slowly. And thinking about your bimbo shacking up with some loser who'll raise your child instead of you."

Chuckling, she lowered the weapon. "I hope you burn in hell, Walter O'Brien." With that she spun around, her crazed laughter along with her footsteps reverberating through the building.

With a burst of adrenalin, he struggled against his bonds. It was short lived though, he was soon gasping for air, feeling his strength draining from his body. He needed medical attention. He'd been close to death before. . . He recognized the signs. . . 

Fighting to fend off the gathering darkness, he whispered, "Paige."

_____

"Where's our fearless leader?" said Toby as he and Happy strolled into the garage a little after ten.

"He's not here?" Sylvester glanced over at Paige. "I thought he was upstairs. . . You were up there when I came in so. . ."

"He's out on a private errand," Paige said as she sat at her desk, trying to concentrate as she pressed her hands to the side of her head. 

"Doing what?" the shrink asked.

"Do you need to look up the definition of ‘private,' moron?" Happy rolled her eyes as she headed toward her workbench.

"Quiet, all of you." Paige could feel all of them staring at her but she didn't care. Something wasn't right. . .

Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard a crack then two gunshots over the com nestled in her ear. "Walter! Walter!" Jumping to her feet, she grabbed a pen and scribbled on a piece of paper.

"Call 911. And Cabe. Give them this address," she ordered as she ran out of the garage, leaving behind three bewildered teammates.

______

Slamming her car into park, Paige turned off the ignition before hopping out. "Walter! Where are you?" she shouted as she burst into the old warehouse. She came to a halt, listening for anything that would pinpoint his location in the maze of boxes and pallets. Hearing a quiet groan, she followed it to its source.

"Oh, God, Walter!" She fell to her knees in front of him, staring at the still bleeding bullet wounds on the left side of his abdomen. Not knowing whether to first untie him or staunch his wounds, her hands fluttered uselessly.

"Knife." His thready voice startled her since she thought he was unconscious. "Right pock. . .pocket."

"Okay." Frantically trying to remember her right from left, she gave up and shoved her hands into both pockets, fishing around until she found his pocketknife. She immediately began slicing through the cords. 

Once he was freed, she grasped his shirt and wrenched it open, buttons flying everywhere. In the struggle to remove his button-down, Walter slid off the chair, his face contorted with pain. Paige caught him in her lap, finally tearing the shirt into pieces and pressing them against his stomach. 

"I'm sor. . .sorry," he mumbled. "Sorry about. . .dating. . .her. . ."

"It's okay, Walter," she replied, her eyes growing damp. "I heard everything, it wasn't your fault. She's insane."

"No, I was. . .an ass. . . I was scared. . . My feelings. . ."

"I know. I forgave you long ago." She kissed his forehead as sirens wailed in the distance. "If you hadn't dated her, we might still be dancing around each other, too scared to admit we love each other." Patting her stomach, she added, "And this little one wouldn't exist."

With the last bit of his strength, Walter lifted his hand and placed it on her belly. He glanced up at her, saw the tears rolling down her cheeks, felt his own traveling down his face. "P-Paige," he began, stopping when he felt their baby kick his hand. "I love. . . Love you."

"I love you, too, Walter," she said. Her sad yet beautiful smile was the last thing he saw before his world went dark.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been hard to write for some reason and I'm still not totally thrilled with it. But it is what it is.

** One Month Later **

"Hi. Paige Dineen. I'm here for my prenatal checkup." 

The receptionist smiled up at her. "Oh, and your five month ultrasound," she said as she pulled out a file.

"Yes." Paige watched as the other woman glanced over her shoulder, then noted as her lips tightened.

"The nurse will be with you in a moment."

Paige turned away before glancing around the waiting room. Women filled most of the chairs. Small children played near a box of toys in one corner. Her eyes settled on a young couple, the woman obviously pregnant, the man's hand rubbing her huge belly. 

Looking away, she snatched up a magazine from nearby table. She found a seat, and began flipping through the periodical. Picture after picture of happy babies, smiling mothers, proud fathers. . . Tossing the magazine aside, she bit her lip as tears welled up in her eyes. 

"Paige Dineen."

She stood up, dabbing at her damp cheeks before making her way over to the waiting nurse.

"Weigh in first," announced the woman, whose name tag read Maya, as she led Paige down the hallway to the scale.

Kicking off her shoes, Paige stepped up on it. "Hmm," the nurse said, noting the numbers on her chart. "You've lost five pounds. Are you still experiencing morning sickness?"

"No. It's just been a. . .uh, stressful month," Paige answered, taking a deep breath.

"You need to be careful," said Maya. "Losing too much weight at this stage of your pregnancy isn't healthy. You've been drinking enough water today?"

Paige picked up her purse and shook the nearly empty water bottle at the nurse as she slid her shoes back on. "This is my third one."

"Good." 

She followed Maya to an examination room. "Okay, let's get your blood pressure," the nurse said. Paige was glad it was warm enough to wear a sleeveless blouse so she didn't have to roll up her sleeve. The cuff bit into her skin as it tightened around her upper arm and she winced.

"145 over 92," announced Maya. "A bit higher than normal. You'll need to keep an eye on that. It's probably due to your stress issues, but it probably wouldn't hurt to cut down on your salt intake."

Paige grimaced, thinking of all the salty sweet snacks she'd been eating lately, when she'd eaten at all. 

The nurse made some notations onto Paige's chart after taking her temperature and checking her pulse. "Okay, ready to take a peek at that baby?" Maya asked with a smile.

"Sure." On the way to the imaging room, she placed her hand on her belly when she felt a tiny kick. Today would be the first day she'd get to see the child growing inside her. A vision formed in her mind of a baby with dark curly hair, dark brown eyes, and a little dimple in its chin, just like its father's. . . 

Once again, she had to blink back tears as she hopped up onto the exam table. "Hi, I'm Jenelle. I'll be your tech today," a woman said perkily as she walked into the room. "Okay, lay back and get comfy. I'm going to use the Doppler heart monitor to see where Junior is hiding."

Within minutes, a loud heartbeat filled the room. The tech smiled. "150 beats per minute, which is normal." She turned off the monitor then reached for a tube. "This might be a little cold."

"That's okay," Paige murmured as she pulled up her top, exposing her belly. Jenelle was applying the gel when there was a commotion out in the hallway. Recognizing one of the voices, the liaison smiled.

The door burst open, and Walter and Ralph stumbled into the room. "I'm sorry," the genius said, slightly out of breath and holding his left side.

"It's o. . ." Paige began before he interrupted.

"The case took longer than we thought, then we stopped and picked up Ralph from his day camp on the way here. I'm sorry."

"Walter, it's okay. You're here now." Paige reached out and he grasped her hand. "You haven't missed anything." She grinned apologetically at the technician. "This is my son, Ralph, and Walter. . .uh, the baby's father." Her smile widened as Walter's face reddened. 

"Well, if everyone's here now," Jenelle said, sounding a bit put out, "we'll get on with it." 

She slid the wand around Paige's stomach as they watched the screen displaying dark blurry images. "There it is!" shouted Ralph, pointing at the picture. "Wow."

Paige glanced up at Walter, who was pressing his lips together and she knew he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. Turning her attention back to the monitor, she watched as well as felt the baby flutter its hands and feet inside her.

The technician spent several minutes marking and measuring before commenting, "Everything looks good." She looked up at Paige and Walter. "Do you want to know the sex?"

"Not really," Paige replied at the same time Walter said, "Yes." He stared at her incredulously. "You don't want to know?"

"No, I want to be surprised," she said. 

"I don't like surprises."

"I know." Paige laughed.

"It would be more efficient to know." 

"I already know what it's going to be," announced Ralph, indicating the screen. "It's pretty obvious."

"That's probably just the umbilical cord," said Jenelle in a patronizing voice. "Most people mistake. . ."

"Nope." The youngster cut in before pointing at the monitor. "That's the umbilical cord. That's the. . ."

"Ralph!" Paige was startled by the reprimand in Walter's tone. "Your mom doesn't want to know. We should respect her wishes."

"Okay." Her son grinned as he and Walter fist bumped off to the side of the table, thinking she wouldn't notice. 

Oh God, she was going to be outnumbered, probably not only by geniuses, but by members of the opposite sex. Glancing from Ralph to Walter, she smiled. She couldn't imagine not having either one of them in her life. So what was one more?

Giving Walter's hand a squeeze, Paige thought of how she had nearly lost him twice in the past six months. She never would have believed she would be grateful he had wrecked Elia's Ferrari. Linda's bullets had struck the left side of his abdomen, where his spleen had once been, before it had to be removed after that harrowing accident.

Damage had been minimal and he'd been back on his feet in less than a week. Linda had been arrested attempting to throw her weapon into San Pedro harbor. She'd proudly confessed to everything and Paige was grateful there wouldn't be a trial. 

The rest of the appointment went by quickly and after talking with the doctor, Paige, Walter, and Ralph walked out into the waiting room, where the rest of the team were looking awkwardly out of place. "So, what is it?" asked Toby, getting to his feet.

Happy smacked him with the magazine she'd been reading. "Maybe they don't want to tell us, numb nuts."

"What makes you think we even found out?" Paige rubbed her hands on her stomach as Walter placed his hand on her back.

"Because your son and your baby daddy seem pretty smug," replied the shrink. "Like they know they're adding another number to their ranks."

"We won't know for several years if he'll be a genius," stated Walter. 

"He?"

Oh, shit. Walter cursed the slip of his tongue. "It. The baby."

Toby shook his head. "Nuh-uh, you said ‘he'." He glanced at Ralph for confirmation. The youngster nodded. "So Wally Junior is okay? No massive ego-inflated head? No emotionless shriveled heart like his father's?"

"Everything is fine," stated Paige as Happy hit the psychiatrist with her magazine again. "We should go," she added, aware the other people in the waiting room were staring at them.

Cabe and Sylvester took that as their cue to exit, hurrying outside. Happy grabbed Toby's hand, pulling him toward the door. Ralph skipped ahead of them.

"We're not naming the baby Walter Junior," Walter muttered to Paige, who smiled and patted him on the shoulder. 

"Of course not." She sighed as they made their way to her car where her son impatiently waited. "I haven't even thought of names yet. And we need to turn the spare room into a nursery and. . ."

Walter chuckled. "Ralph and I have some ideas for the baby's room, don't we, buddy?"

"Yep." The youngster grinned and Paige wasn't sure she liked the conspiratorial expressions on their faces.

On the ride back to the garage, they explained their plans to incorporate scientific and mathematical decorations that would be infant friendly. Paige laughed as their excitement was contagious. 

"Hey," she said when she could get a word in edgewise, "don't forget Tim is coming over for dinner tonight."

She had to bit her lip as Walter frowned. "He's bringing a friend," she added. The former trainee's shrapnel removal surgery had been successful and after he'd recovered, he'd been transferred to the Coast Guard division of Homeland. He was still saving lives and using his Naval training at the same time. 

"Sounds like a really nice guy," Paige continued, ruffling her hand through Walter's curls as he grunted instead of answering. 

They arrived back at headquarters before the others and so were the first to notice the two men dressed in dark suits standing near the door. Paige flashed a glance at Walter, who shrugged but not before she saw the worry in his eyes. "Are they from Homeland?" she wondered aloud.

"Only one way to find out," he replied.

Slowly getting out of the car, Walter looked over his shoulder. "Stay here," he said to Ralph, "until we find out what they want."

"Walter O'Brien and Paige Dineen?" One of the men stepped forward, extracting a long white envelope from inside his jacket as the other man did the same.

"Yes," Walter answered, moving in front of Paige, who rested her hand protectively over her protruding belly.

"You've been served." The envelopes were shoved into their hands then the men walked away as the rest of the team drove up in Cabe's SUV.

"Who the hell was that?" growled the agent as he, Toby, Happy, and Sly gathered around them.

Walter flipped his envelope over, the same dread filling him as when they received the blackmail photos from Linda. The imprint into the upper left hand corner announced it was from the US Federal District Court. Glancing over at Paige, saw her shocked face, knew she had come to the same realization he had. Tearing it open, he read the letter inside, confirming his suspicions.

They were being subpoenaed as witnesses, to testify against the people who had held them hostage.

"Oh, boy."

_____

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't panic! There will be another story finishing this trilogy. I need to finish up some of my other stories first though


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